


Runaways

by KatHarkness_Katara, sunandoceanblue



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 42,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatHarkness_Katara/pseuds/KatHarkness_Katara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandoceanblue/pseuds/sunandoceanblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Ben Solo decides he's had enough, and he'd much prefer the open galaxy. Elsewhere, Cadet Hux is near the end of his tether, and a runaway kid may just be the breaking point...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time to Leave

**Runaways Chapter 1 Time to Leave**

The dim eyes stared unseeingly.

This was not a surprise. The eyes were those of a helmet, half-melted and unoccupied for more than a decade.

Ben Organa-Solo sniffled. He hugged the helmet to his chest, then slipped it into a black velvet bag he'd made just to house it. He picked up a duffle bag, stuffed a few spare clothes in it, and pulled on a jacket. As a final touch, he carefully put his lightsaber in an inside pocket.

There was just one more thing for him to do. Leave a note.

He wouldn't leave a note for his parents. They'd never cared about him. The fact they'd decided to cancel his long-awaited Life Day celebration, the one time a year when he had their undivided attention, proved it once and for all.

He wouldn't leave a note for his Uncle Luke. Sure he was technically one of his wards, living in his Jedi Temple as an Initiate, learning the ways of the Force and the other useful skills in classes open to all the youngsters in the local village, but Uncle Luke only kept him around because he was too powerful for Uncle Luke to be comfortable.

Uncle Chewie? All he cared about was running around the galaxy with Dad, and occasionally the political situation on Kashyyyk.

Little Rey? She couldn't even _read_.

Well…there was _one_ person who liked him.

**Poe,**

**You've always been a good friend, and I haven't. Sorry about this. I just can't stay here anymore. Please look after Rey.**

**Ben.**

He jotted the words on a sheet of flimsiplast, folded it twice and tucked it into his pocket. He glanced around the room he'd lived in for the past four years, since he was eight and was officially accepted into the Temple. It was a last glance round. He wouldn't be coming back.

He snuck out under cover of darkness. It was quiet. It was almost always quiet on Yavin IV, or New Alderaan as it was sometimes called on official paperwork. The village was nestled up near the Temple, mostly inhabited by ex-Rebels and Alderaani refugees. Ben drew the Force around him tight, using a little trick he hadn't exactly perfected to project an aura of not-being-worth-seeing. Ben could only manage it on people who thought he had every reason to be there anyway, but it was a good way to help ensure he was unnoticed.

The Damerons' house had a hanger and a large tree in the back garden. Kes Dameron, a former Sergeant in the Rebel Alliance, and his wife Shara Bey, a pilot who still did fighter escort frequently, were good friends of Ben's parents. They often looked after little Rey when the Solos weren't around.

One of the bedroom windows was open. Ben leaped up to it with no great difficulty, and slipped in. Poe Dameron was only a month or so older than him, and looked so peaceful with his head on his pillow. Rey had snuck into his bed, which wasn't a surprise. She did it at home all the time. Ben slipped the note under Poe's pillow, and left the way he came.

Ben kept his not-worth-seeing shield up as he walked down to the tiny space port. There were old freighters and shuttles in a hanger just next to it, Rebel vehicles no one in particular owned. There was bound to be one he could borrow.

He felt the Force gently nudging him towards an Imperial shuttle. Ben knew this one to be the _Tydirium_ , which had a somewhat notorious past. It had been part of one of the most 'glorious' battles of the Rebellion, the Battle of Endor. It was one of the crafts that could be easily manned by a single pilot, which was exactly what he wanted.

He entered the shuttle, checked the emergency kit, and dropped his duffle bag and the helmet in its black pouch on one of the bunks.

There was a whole galaxy out there, just waiting to be explored.

* * *

Luke Skywalker, Commander of the Rebel Alliance and Master of the New Jedi Order, flanked the _Millennium Falcon_ closely in his X-Wing. This was the _worst_ time for an emergency, but a minor skirmish had resulted in a landslide on a small planetoid with a bunch of mining villages. There were lots of wives and children in the villages, waiting for husbands and fathers to come home from the mines. Luke had spent the best part of a week trying to find which blocked shafts had people down them, while Han and Chewie were setting up temporary shelters and Leia negotiated to end the skirmishing.

Chewie had his fur matted with mud so badly he'd need to soak in a tub for two days to clean it all off. Han had got a dozen little cuts, and had let them get infected. Luke himself had been caught in a little rockslide that had broken two fingers. Leia, fortunately, had managed to avoid getting shot at, although Threepio wasn’t so lucky and would need some major repairs.

Artoo beeped as the ships came into the final approach. "Yeah, I know," Luke answered. "Always good to be home."

He guided the X-Wing down, turned the engines off and vaulted out without waiting for the steps. The _Falcon_ was already grounded, the boarding ramp down and Leia coming down. His sister looked around.

"Ben's normally here to meet us," she muttered.

Luke tilted his head and reached out through the Force, gently reaching out for the presences of other Sensitives. Leia, obviously, and Rey at the Damerons, and the multitude in the Temple, but he couldn't find Ben…

"He's not mad because we missed his Life Day, is he?" Han asked, appearing followed by the very dirty Chewie.

"I can't feel him…" Luke muttered. "Someone's coming, but it's not him."

One of Luke's Senior Padawans ran in. "Master Skywalker," he gasped. "We saw you coming…It's Ben Solo."

"Is he okay?" Han asked quickly.

The Padawan shook his head. "He's vanished."


	2. The Final Straw

**Runaways Chapter 2 The Final Straw**

Hux flicked his wrist, the hilt of his knife slipping into his hand. Then he slid it back into the sheath along the inside of his forearm. He flicked it a few more times. Out, in, out, in. There was something comforting about the slight metallic rasps.

He scanned the crowd. Mostly locals going about their business. Three troopers, his father's official bodyguard – the fourth was inside the shop with his father. And…two slightly shady looking fellows, one pretending to window-shop and one apparently engrossed in his datapad. They were glancing in his direction, or at suitable reflective surfaces, a little too frequently. Slight bumps of concealed weapons. But also the almost imperceptible bulge of tags around their necks. Secret Service. Fairly standard detail for a Commandant like his father.

Said Commandant, Brendol Hux I, came out of the shop and immediately beckoned his idling offspring. Hux sauntered over, taking full advantage of his absence from the Imperial Academy to discard military discipline. He might not have done so if it was someone other than his father who'd brought him out here.

"You have caused quite a difficulty," the Commandant said, leading the way down the street.

"Sir," Hux said mildly.

"Your actions have disgraced the family."

"Sir."

"Your…recreational activities are absolutely disgusting."

"Sir. I have the best grades the Academy have ever seen."

"And yet, when not in class you are invariably intoxicated," the Commandant snapped. “Or else hiding out in the city. What was it you were doing yesterday? I know you weren’t in that fitness club you’re so fond of.”

Hux shrugged. "Studying."

"Studying," his father echoed. He reached out, grabbed the cadet's collar and pulled it aside to reveal a livid lovebite. "And which class required _this_?"

Hux twitched slightly, pulling out of the Commandant's loose grip. "You instructed me to get perfect grades, sir. I deliver. What does it matter what else I do?"

"It matters because your behaviour shames your family name!" Hux Sr hissed. "Are you even sober yet, or are you still high on whatever you took this morning? This is the third marriage negotiation you have irretrievably sabotaged-"

"I have no intention of entering into a political marriage," Hux snapped. "I would rather cut my finger off than put a ring on it."

"You will do as is expected of you!" the Commandant retorted. They'd stopped walking and were glaring at each other. The trooper escort were hovering, probably waiting for further instruction.

There was a commotion at the other end of the street. Both Huxes glanced towards it. A scrawny dark haired kid was running through the crowd, two heavily armed, scoundrel-looking men chasing him.

"If you don't fix your attitude, it won't matter how good your results are," the Commandant snarled. "You'll end up no better than that _urchin_."

Hux looked from his father to the boy, and something inside him just _snapped_. His father never cared about him. If he did, he may have paid more attention to the fact his cadets tend to compete for the top spots by sabotaging each other – including via rape and murder. He doubted his father even knew he'd had to make his first kill when he was just eight. And that constant danger took its toll.

"Fine, I'll go play with the urchin," Hux announced. He lifted a hand to his mouth, and blew his father a kiss.

Then he turned and sauntered off.

Hux ducked through the crowd, and slipped aside to let the kid past, before cutting between him and the pursuers. He flicked his wrists, bringing his knives into his grasp, and swung one in a carefully controlled arc to cut into the neck of the nearest pursuer. It nicked the carotid artery, sending blood spurting everywhere, before slicing through the windpipe. The man fell forwards. It was in the hands of fate whether he'd die drowning in his own fluids, or if the blood loss would kill him first.

The kid had turned to stare at him, and the second man was charging. Thinking quickly, Hux reached out and shoved the boy down. The man was running, and Hux ducked to the side, tripping him, and sticking his already bloodied knife into his ribcage.

He turned to the boy, who'd managed to get to his feet. He reversed his grip on the still-clean knife, and offered it to him. "You got a ride outta here?"

The kid stared. "You going to kill me too?" he asked.

Hux knelt, and wiped clean his knife on the corpse's shirt. He looked up at the child and grinned. "Nope, I just thought I might join you wherever it is you're off to."

The kid kept staring for a moment longer, then gently pushed away the still-proffered knife. "Yeah. A shuttle."

Hux's grin widened. "Let's go then."

The kid nodded, and took off. Hux ran after him, keeping pace easily while watching all around for more trouble. He felt euphoric in a way drugs or sex had never felt. Refusing to get married or bending unwritten rules, even sneaking out for his ‘fitness’ classes with his father’s unofficial blessing, was one thing, but this was _desertion_. Most definitely disobeying orders. It was so against everything he was ever taught. Absolutely outrageous.

He felt so _alive_.

The kid stopped by an old Lambda class shuttle. It looked battered, but still useable. "Just you?" Hux asked. "Or is there a co-pilot?"

"Just me," the dark-haired urchin shrugged. He entered the code to open the ramp, and scurried up.

"Well, a second pilot does help when you're going into hyperspace," Hux mused aloud as he followed the boy to the cockpit. "Lucky for you, I'm a fair navigator. You have a destination in mind?"

The boy started activating the engines and beginning the pre-flight sequences. "This asteroid belt a few parsecs away. That'll give us time to plan our next move."

"Fine by me," Hux shrugged. He slipped into the co-pilot's seat and turned on the navcomputer. It already had the co-ordinates programmed in. Kid planned for a quick getaway. He'd got smarts.

They took off, and Hux kept careful watch in case the boy needed help. He'd flown practically everything from a TIE fighter to a Super Star Destroyer on the Academy simulators, and the Lambda Class were particularly easy. He waited until they were safely in hyperspace before speaking again.

"So…I'm Hux, by the way. You got a name?" The boy mumbled in reply. Hux resorted to guessing. "Ren? That's a bit weird."

The boy flushed with embarrassment. "I said Ben, okay?"

Hux smiled. "Ben it is. Where are you heading? Long term, I mean."

Ben shrugged. "Away. Just…away from my folks."

Hux grinned. He hadn't smiled so much in…well, ever. Who knew you could get high on freedom? "What a coincidence. Same here. Rebelling, huh?"

Ben shrugged, morosely. "Like they care one way or another."

Hux hummed. "My father cares far too much. It's maddening. I'm just trying to be perfect, like he wants. Does it matter how I get there?"

Ben scoffed. "So you didn't _have_ to leave your family? That's so _idiotic_."

Hux grinned. He was flying, and never wanted to come down. "Oh, I know."


	3. First Steps Together

**Runaways Chapter 3 First Steps Together**

Ben watched his new co-pilot out of the corner of his eye. The _Tydirium_ was an Imperial shuttle; he'd thought he'd be safer in Imperial space. And that was such an isolated little moon – he only wanted to try bartering some spare rations for a more up-to-date star map. But clearly using fifteen-year-old smuggling codes he'd picked up from his father was a bad idea. How was he to know that would bring bounty hunters down on him?

Hux was scrolling through the shuttle's on-board manual, presumably familiarising himself with the craft. Ben reached out with the Force, a little tendril to feel his intentions. It came back telling him that Hux wasn't exactly _trustworthy_ , but would be loyal, and wouldn't harm him. Mind you, he'd also felt nudgings towards Imperial space, and look how that had turned out.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, and Ben guided it into the asteroid belt to get out of sight. Hux closed the manual, and surveyed the surroundings. "Did you have any ideas for what to do next?" Hux asked.

Ben shrugged. "Not really," he mumbled. "I wanted a better star map, but I don't have many credits. And I don't know how to earn any…"

"Luckily for you, I can help there," Hux said. "I do have a small allowance I haven't dipped into much in years, so it should have accumulated somewhat. If we get back to another Imperial settlement I can access my accounts. What else do we need?"

"Um…" Ben bit his lip. He really hadn't thought very far. "I don't know?"

Hux tilted his head, pondering. "Let's see…this is primarily a troop transport ship. Should have two small bunk rooms, a 'fresher, a galley, and of course the main hold. Should be a week's supplies for fifty troopers, and five medkits. Do we have all that?"

Ben stared at him. "I didn't check that thoroughly," he admitted. "This shuttle hasn't been used for a while…"

Hux tapped his monitor. "Why don't you take an inventory while I check options for our destination?"

Ben shrugged. It was as good a plan as any. The Force would tell him if he was running into trouble, and if Hux became too much trouble…it wouldn't be _nice_ to just dump him on some planet, but he seemed resourceful…But then, who was he exactly? "Um, that uniform? I'm not sure about the insignia?"

Hux looked at him curiously. "Arkanis Academy, final year," he answered. Ben hadn't heard of Arkanis Academy before, and his confusion must have shown. "One of the military academies," Hux elaborated.

"You're an Imperial cadet?" Ben asked. He'd heard stories from his family, and he knew there were rumours that the Imperials in exile were hoping to regain their position, but he hadn't thought of there being young Imperials-in-training. He probably should have done.

"All my life," Hux shrugged, and wasn't that a strange concept. "We might want to pick up clothing for a variety of terrains. That'll give us more options. I just have this uniform; what about you?"

Ben thought of the bag in his bunkroom. He hadn't even thought of how his clothing choices would limit his destinations. "I just packed for a temperate climate."

"Fair enough," Hux muttered. "So we'll want somewhere relatively warm, but not too hot…" he subsided into an inaudible mumble, pulling up a star chart on his console and turning his attention away from Ben.

Ben felt like he'd been dismissed, and slunk out. He knew the ration packs were in the galley, and the medkits would be in 'fresher. He just doubted there was the full supply.

The galley, it appeared, contained not only rations and kettles for preparing them and a cooler for additional perishables (of which there were none), but a drinks machine with several dozen pods for both caf and tea. He got down to counting the supplies. There were over a hundred bottles of water – because Uncle Luke had grown up in a desert, and tended to be extra careful about water even on a seriously humid planet like Yavin. The rest of the supplies were scantier. There was a box of protein bars, and a case of carb pouches, and a small jar of vitamin supplements, but that was it.

The 'fresher was reasonably well stocked with body scrubs and hair soaps, but the sole medkit had no bacta and only a few dressings, half a dozen doses of painkiller, a roll of bandages and a tube of antiseptic gel.

Hux took the news in good grace. "Somewhere with a market near the spaceport would be best then," he mused. "I don't think it would be a good idea to stop off too close, but we don't want to duck through Republic space either…" He punched a few buttons, and showed Ben his proposed route. The chosen planet was down a hyperspace lane, but the route ducked between three different lanes. "This should make it harder to track us, if anyone's following," Hux explained.

"Looks good," Ben mumbled. "You want tea? Caf?"

"Caf would be nice," Hux smiled. "Lunch was quite some time ago. I can get us going if you want food?"

Ben shrugged. "Yeah, okay. You want something?"

"Just caf," Hux assured him.

* * *

* * *

 

Hux stayed in the cockpit until they reached the hyperspace lane, set the autopilot, and added an alarm to call him fifteen minutes before they were due to drop out of hyperspace. Then he went to find the galley.

Ben was perched on the counter with a bowl in his lap. From the colour and smell, he'd used a carb pouch and crumbled protein bar to make soup. The boy nodded towards a mug sitting next to the drinks machine.

The caf was divine.

Ben drained his bowl and set it in the sonic dishwasher. "Do you mind if I go to bed?" he asked, unsure.

Hux shrugged. "It's your ship."

Ben squirmed. "Well, yeah, but I don't know how long we'll be in hyperspace."

"About fourteen hours," Hux informed him. "Go right ahead. The autopilot seems to be working fine."

Hux didn't pay much attention as Ben retreated into one of the bunk rooms. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he probably ought to eat something. He picked up the datapad Ben had recorded the inventory on, and started running through the medical supplies they should have in stock.

He heard a sort of muffled cry, and looked up. The noise came again, and he followed it to the bunk room. Ben was curled up in a ball on the bunk, shoulders shaking and small sobs issuing from his chest.

Hux found himself sitting next to him, tucking the blanket around him, and gently stroking his hair. Eventually Ben fell asleep.

In the Academy, falling into this sort of deep sleep around someone else was dangerous, because you never knew who would take the opportunity to knife you. But Ben had trusted him enough to be lulled to sleep by him. That level of trust was…touching.

Hux kept stroking Ben's hair, and settled himself into a more comfortable position. Being around this little kid was so nice, so relaxing…

And then Hux was asleep too.


	4. Stop-Off Point One

**Runaways Chapter 4 Stop-Off Point One**

Hux brushed his sleeves where his insignia were conspicuously absent. A cadet running around with a civilian would be far too noticeable, but it was easy enough to make his uniform look sufficiently like civvies to fool the casual onlooker. But he could do with a new jacket or a coat to cover to help disguise himself even more.

Ben was fine. Nothing eye-catching about his outfit. Hux would've been slightly more comfortable if Ben had a weapon, but if he couldn't use it, it was better he not attract that sort of attention. Hux's knives were sitting comfortably in their holsters along his forearms. He'd made the holsters himself, to replace a crude set that had worn out and left the points digging into his arms and leaving scars.

"What do you know about this place?" Ben asked quietly as they descended the boarding ramp. Ben had landed them outside the settlement, on top a cliff overlooking the outpost. The spaceport hadn't even appeared to notice their approach.

"There's not a lot to know," Hux shrugged, giving Ben time to lock the door behind them before leading the way down the mountain path. "Originally this was a refuelling and listening station for the Imperial Navy, but it expanded when a bored officer found the woods in that direction and the river over there were good for hunting and fishing. So a resort was built, and the settlement grew from there. After the Fall of the Empire, this was one choice for exiles. It's not very populous or important, but it's a nice enough place. It still attracts First Order officers looking for a woodsman's holiday, so we shouldn't have too many problems getting supplies."

Ben kept following after him, stumbling occasionally on the uneven ground. "Have you been here before?"

"No, but Father has," Hux shrugged. "He said these mountains can be treacherous during the winter, but it's a rather short season."

"Oh." Ben was quiet for a moment, before speaking up again. "Hux, aren't you having any problems with this path?"

Hux spared him a glance, as Ben tripped over some loose stones. "I took fitness classes that improved my agility," he said, just a little evasively. He always called them 'fitness classes', even to his father. Especially to his father. His father had been paying his membership to the fitness centre, and there was no way the Commandant would have done that if he knew his only son was doing _ballet_. And it had done wonders for his core strength and balance and agility.

"Any tips?" Ben gasped. He stumbled into Hux, and the older boy had to catch him to keep him from falling.

"Step lightly, and don't shift your weight onto your forward foot until it's stable," Hux recommended. He held onto Ben's arm for a little longer, until the kid was going smooth.

"So what did you do before you ran?" Hux asked idly.

"I…was in training," Ben said after a pause. "There were…issues." Hux waited for him to continue, but eventually had to accept that was all he was getting.

"So, you had no idea what to do beyond getting away," Hux mused aloud. "I left my father rather on a whim. That makes it just you and me against the galaxy. What can we do?"

"I've…always wanted to see Naboo," Ben said, slightly wistfully. "I have family history there. But it's too far into very Republic space. Not sure it's worth the risk."

"Hmm, no, that's not a good place for us," Hux agreed. "But I'm sure there's loads of places we can see."

"Endor," Ben murmured. "Darth Vader's pyre…"

Hux chuckled. "Just a little morbid, kid," he said.

Ben flushed, but didn't respond.

The settlement was quiet, but there was enough activity for the children to slip through. Hux kept watch of the people and buildings they passed. There were Stormtroopers, not too many but enough to be both reassuring and concerning. The Imperial presence was familiar and felt safe, but Hux certainly did not want them to identify him. He also noted two clothes shops, a grocery store, pharmacy, tourist centre, a few other places…and a bank.

Hux walked over to the bank as though he had every right to be there. That was the trick to sneaking around, after all; sneaking attracts attention and walking normally doesn't. Ben was sticking close, and Hux kept half an eye out for anyone who might threaten him. The bank had an account access point on the exterior, and Hux gladly used it to transfer every last centi-cred from his savings account to his digital wallet, except for a hundred creds he withdrew in cash, small denomination chips.

He turned to Ben. "Okay, first we'll get that star map, then medical supplies," he told him. "After that we can think about food and clothes. Have a think in case there's anything in particular you want."

Ben nodded, but he was distracted by the unfamiliar surroundings. He trailed behind Hux as he went first to the tourist centre for the best map he could buy, than to the pharmacy, where they had less luck. While they were able to get a kit full of dressings, bandages and creams, there were no drugs and no bacta. A large expedition had passed through the day before, and the pharmacy had yet to restock.

"We could stay for a few days," Ben suggested as they looked through the window of one of the clothes shops. "Wait for the pharmacy to restock, fill up on medical supplies, and then head off?"

"That sounds decent," Hux agreed. "C'mon. Pick out an outfit for cold weather, hot weather and wet weather, make sure you have a good coat and good boots, then meet me at the counter. Try not to take too long."

Ben nodded, and as they entered, he darted towards the footwear. Hux, instead, looked for something he'd seen in the window.

That black greatcoat looked _fantastic_.


	5. Sudden Reversal

**Runaways Chapter 5 Sudden Reversal**

Ben winced as the shop assistant tightened the bindings on the boots another notch. "Hurts a little, but it's meant to," the boy said pragmatically. "Because where you start wearing them, the leather will loosen. If they're not tight to start with, they'll be too loose when you've broken them in."

"How long will they take to break in?" Ben asked, standing and trying a few steps. The boots were stiff around his ankles and pinched his toes a little, but they felt tough enough to conquer mountains.

"Depends on how you use them," the assistant shrugged. "Maybe eight to twelve hours hard walking to get the stiffness out of them. But you'd need several days to get them comfortable on your feet. Now, socks. You'll have to wear thick socks to prevent bruising and chafing, and sometimes a lighter second pair underneath. The pair you're wearing now I'll throw in for free, and I'd recommend several pairs of each."

Ben nodded. "Okay then. Another three pairs of each, please. And can I wear the boots out?"

"Of course." The assistant pulled the shop chip off the box and handed it over before pulling the packs of socks off the hooks. "Scan the chip at the counter, and here's the socks."

"Thanks," Ben smiled. He put the socks and the chip in his basket on top of his old, lighter boots, and wandered off to look at jackets. He picked out a wind- and water-proof jacket in a rather fetching forest green, and a pair of equally weather-resistant dark blue trousers, both with a nice, soft lining. Then a fleecy jumper, and a lightweight shirt and trousers. He was heading to look at hats when he bumped into Hux.

Hux had thrown a big black coat over the shoulders of his uniform, and it made him look pale, but also rather…majestic. "Wow, you look…dramatic," Ben blurted out, then flushed.

Hux preened ever so slightly, a gentle smirk curling his lips. "Well, black does look fabulous on me," he drawled. "How's it going?"

Ben kicked up one foot. "New boots!" he crowed.

Hux cocked his head as he examined them. "Very practical, and you still have the lighter ones if you need a little less rigidity," he said approvingly. "I just have the heavy ones. Give me a few more minutes; I should get a light pair while we're here."

Hux headed off, and Ben browsed the headgear. He'd thought of maybe getting a lightweight helmeted hat, but the only ones there were rather ugly, or too big. He left them, and headed for the counter.

The shop clerk glanced at Ben's bulging basket. "You ready to pay for that?" she asked.

Ben bit his lip. "My friend's paying…" he trailed off as the clerk started glaring suspiciously. "He's just over there, looking at boots," he squeaked.

"If you say so," the clerk said. There was distrust coming off her, but Ben wasn't sure why. Sure, he was a slightly scruffy teenager (almost), but what kid robs an outdoor clothing store?

Ben looked over to where Hux should be, and momentarily got worried when he couldn't see him. Then he spotted the shock of fiery red by the bags. Hux picked out a backpack, and came over to the counter. "Got everything, kid?"

"Yeah," Ben said. He lifted the basket onto the counter, and started unloading it for the clerk, who started scanning dolefully.

Hux had nearly as many purchases, and seemed just a little impatient with the time it was taking. Ben concentrated on packing everything into Hux's new backpack, and then, felt-

Something. A little…tingling in the Force. Ben paused, and tried to hone in on it. The sensation got stronger, jarring, a definite warning sensation. He tapped Hux's arm. "We need to go," he hissed.

Hux looked at him strangely, but nodded. He turned back to the clerk, cajoled her into speeding up, and paid. He passed Ben the smaller bag with the map and medical supplies they'd purchased earlier and swung the backpack onto his shoulders. "Come on then," he sighed.

Ben stumbled out, his too-stiff boots now seeming like a bad call, and headed straight towards the outpost's edge and the cliff the shuttle sat on. Hux was on his heels, but slightly less urgent. But then, the older boy wasn't Force sensitive.

"There!"

Ben froze, startled, glanced round, then started running. There was a Stormtrooper pointing straight at them. Hux was also running, cursing under his breath. "We have to get to the shuttle," he growled.

"They'll catch us on the mountain path," Ben gasped.

Hux grunted. "Ever rock-climbed before?"

"What?!"

"We can go straight up the cliff," Hux explained. They tore out of town, and kept running. They could hear the Stormtroopers sprinting after them, slowed by their heavy armour.

Ben looked at the cliff, examining it even as they approached full speed. "I think I can do that, yeah," he gasped. He slipped his arm through the bag strap, and used the Force to help him jump up to a handhold. Just behind him, Hux started swinging himself between outcrops.

Ben was just reaching for another handhold, when the Force sang, and he twisted away from a blaster bolt. He swore, and sank into a shimmering state of awareness. Then he heard a grunt, and glanced down, to see-

Hux, falling.


	6. Nobody Expects the Imperial Inquisition!

**Runaways Chapter 6 Nobody Expects the Imperial Inquisition!**

Hux lost his grip as the blaster bolt scorched his side. The heavy backpack had weighed him down, and he couldn't be as light on his feet as he was used to. There'd been some mountains on Arkanis, and sometimes he'd sneak out and spend a day climbing. And there were rough terrain live-fire exercises, but he'd never climbed a cliff while under fire before. It may not have been the best decision. They hadn't even got very far up.

He flailed fruitlessly and only managed to graze his knuckles before he hit the ground, ankle crumpling beneath him. He collapsed, and his head bounced off the ground. He blinked away stars, acutely aware of how vulnerable he suddenly was.

There was a wordless yell, and Ben landed lightly in front of him. The younger boy crouched, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out something metallic, and there was a hum, as a shaft of golden light appeared.

There was a cursing from the Stormtroopers, and one of them yelled an order. "Stun bolts only! We can't risk the cadet."

Hux blinked, still dazed. The cadet had to mean him. Why in the galaxy wouldn't the Stormtroopers risk harming a deserter? Unless his father had ordered him dragged back to Arkanis so he could punish him himself.

There was a hail of blue stun bolts, and Ben whipped his golden light about. It intercepted the bolts and deflected them back at the Stormtroopers. But…how?

That weapon, Hux knew, had to be a lightsaber. Not an awful lot was known about Force users, because they all kept their secrets to themselves. But Jedi, the Republic's lapdogs, used blue or green bladed lightsabers. And Darth Vader used a red one. The Emperor's Inquisitors…usually used red lightsabers. Hux had never heard of a gold one before.

He leaned on the cliff as he levered himself up again. Ben's blade deflected the bolts accurately, slamming them into the Stormtroopers, and while their armour took the brunt of the impact, repeated shots sent each trooper down.

Ben turned to him slowly, looking more than a little nervous as he turned off the lightsaber. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

Hux took a few steps, and his ankle went under him again. Ben reached out and caught him, hands accidentally brushing the blaster burn. Hux winced, but leant on his shoulder. "Ankle's twisted," he gasped.

"Oh, um…should we strap it up?" Ben asked. He wrapped his arm around Hux's chest, and let him rest some of his weight on him.

"No, we'd never get the boot back on," Hux shook his head. "Just…can you cut me a stick from one of those trees?" He didn't really need it; he'd walked on worse injuries, but Ben was flapping, and that lightsaber…

Yeah, he needed just a little more time to think about it.

"Of course, no problem," Ben said hurriedly. "Are you okay for me to let go?"

Hux reached out and took hold of the cliff face, shifting his weight off Ben to let him slip aside. "I'll be fine, just don't take too long," he reassured the preteen.

Ben nodded, and scuttled off to the nearest copse. Hux could just see the golden glow of the lightsaber in the distance. Ben had an old Imperial shuttle, he was in Imperial space, and he had no intention of going too far into Republic territory. Therefore, he was almost certainly an Imperial. But he was using a lightsaber, and probably the Force as well. That would explain how he knew there was trouble coming. Darth Vader was the Emperor's only known apprentice, and he didn't have an apprentice of his own, and anyway, Ben was too young to have been around in the last years of the Empire. Most of the Inquisitors were either caught, tried and executed in the Imperial Purge, or killed resisting arrest. But there were rumours that a few had escaped and gone into exile along with the surviving Imperial High Command. Ben could well be the son, ward or protégé of one of them.

He didn't _act_ like a budding Inquisitor. He was too shy and bashful, and he cried himself to sleep, for Force's sake! He may have the skills, but he certainly didn't have the temperament. Is that why his family didn't care about him?

Ben came back with the stick, the ends and sides scorched where he'd used his lightsaber to make it a smooth crutch. He offered it, still holding the hilt of his unlit weapon in the other hand and looking so anxious it was hard to be stern with him.

"Thanks," Hux said, taking the stick, and resting his weight on it. Much better than walking on the bad ankle. He nodded at the lightsaber. "Useful weapon," he commented, and Ben tensed. "You want to talk about it?"

Ben looked panicked. "No?" he yelped. Hux suddenly found himself feeling sorry for him. Of course being raised by Inquisitors he couldn't please would be stress-inducing.

He raised his hand apologetically. "Fine, fine; I won't ask," he reassured him. "If you want to talk, I'll listen. If you don't want to, I won't make you. Fair enough?"

Ben relaxed marginally. "It's over, and I don't want to think about it," he mumbled. "I just…you and me now, yeah? Us against the galaxy?"

Hux grinned. His head was aching, his side burned, and his ankle sent bolts of pain through his leg whenever he put the slightest weight on it; and his new ally was a former Inquisitor-in-training. Them against the galaxy, indeed. "Absolutely," he said. "Now let's hike back to the shuttle and find which part of it to be against next."

Ben smiled shyly. "I could take the bag?"

Hux shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. Just stay close in case I stumble." He started towards the mountain path, and Ben followed behind him.

His ankle would need to be strapped up, and if they planned for a longer journey to their next destination, that would give it time to heal. His side could do with a bacta patch, but would have to make do with burn cream and a cold compress. Nothing much he could do for his poor bashed skull, though, except painkillers and some rest.

Mmm, painkillers. There was half a bottle of really potent morphate-based pills, and while no one with much medical or first aid training would be convinced he would need something that strong, he was pretty sure he could slip that little nugget of wisdom past Ben.

Morphates do give such a _lovely_ high.


	7. The Kite

**Runaways Chapter 7 The Kite**

Hux is an adrenaline junkie. That's the only explanation. They'd pulled up one of the benches in the main room of the shuttle, strapped his ankle, dressed his blaster burn, and Hux swallowed a few pills. Then the older boy burst into a fit of giggles, and started telling Ben the exact specs of the blaster rifle that shot him.

"See, the only advantage of that type is that it's just soooo cheap," he was saying, eyes sparkling. "Takes forever to get through body armour on kill setting. Stun setting is slightly better, because that sends a jolt through the nervous system regardless of the power behind the bolt. But it's simple. No sophisticated targeting mechanisms. No advanced power regulator. But we can churn them out by the hundred for the 'troopers."

"But…doesn't it hurt?" Ben asked, slightly daunted. It was such a relief Hux was coping okay, but that burn had to smart, even after the painkillers.

Hux shrugged. "Blaster burns aren't much to worry about. Besides, this one just clipped my flank. This time I got nailed in the shoulder, that was much worse."

Ben glanced at Hux's shoulder as he jabbed a thumb at it. Obviously there was nothing to see, what with his shirt blocking the skin, but… "What happened?"

Hux tensed, then relaxed, and grinned again. "It was at the Academy."

Ben thought for a moment. "Training session?"

"Live fire," Hux nodded. "You should've seen the other guy."

There was a distant look in his eyes, and his grin grew slightly wistful. Ben smirked. He didn't like the idea of Hux being hurt, and found himself hoping the other guy got at least one blaster burn of his own. "But didn't that hurt?"

Hux flapped a hand. "Eh, it was fine. Bit of bacta, a few days' rest, right as rain. Rain…" He trailed off, and the distant look returned. "It always rains on Arkanis," he reminisced. "Always, always, _always_ rains. I remember one time it didn't. There was sun. A little golden glow half-covered by clouds. It was almost warm…"

Ben thought of Yavin. Bright sunshine most of the year, hot summers, short winters, rainstorms every afternoon most of the year, but generally it was a nice planet for running around outside. Constant rain must be so dreary. "That sucks," he announced.

"Yeah…" Hux said. "We learnt to swim in this lake. In the rain. There wasn't any point towelling off when we got out, because the towel was already soaked."

Ben snickered. "There's a lake near where I lived," he offered. "When it's hot, we'd go swim, and dry off in the sun. In the winter it freezes. We'd go ice-skating."

"I've never been ice-skating," Hux murmured. "I'd like that. We should go somewhere with ice."

"I've heard things about Hoth," Ben joked.

Hux jumped up. "Yes! Let's go to Hoth!" He darted off towards the cockpit.

Ben watched him leave, and chuckled. Only an idiot would willingly go to Hoth.

* * *

* * *

 Hux preferred his knives. Partly because they had no power source that could be picked up on a scan, but mostly because they much better than blasters in a close-quarters brawl. He had a rather impressive scar on his shoulder from the day he'd learned that particular lesson.

He'd been ten, and heading back from marksmanship practise, so he still had the pistol at his hip. They only ever trained with actual live weapons at Arkanis Academy, because if you were so clumsy that you injured yourself on your own weapon, you deserved it. Hux was passing one of the storage sheds on the way back to his dorm when he heard a pronounced squelch. The slow squelch of someone trying to be quiet. And close, too…

He'd whirled around, and his stalker had lunged for him. The cadet was at least three years older than him, and Hux had only the vaguest recollections of seeing him around. The bigger boy had pinned him to the wall, Hux having got his knives tangled in his sleeves. He really needed better holsters for them.

The boy had pressed his arm to Hux's throat, cutting off his airway. His other hand had drifted south, plucking at Hux's belt. Hux had used his left hand to pry at the one on his neck, while his right pulled the pistol from its holster. The boy had noticed the movement, and his hand had left Hux's waistband to pin his wrist to the wall near his shoulder. Hux had nearly dropped the pistol, but just managed to keep his grip.

"You just stop that, pretty boy," the older boy had snarled. "You be nice and, who knows, you might even _like_ this…"

Hux had spat in his face, twisted the pistol as best he could, and fired.

There had been a terrible, searing pain across his shoulder as the blaster bolt charred the flesh in passing, before slamming into the older boy's side. The boy had dropped to his knees, and Hux had lashed out, pistol-whipping him upside the head before he could recover.

Hux had been in _that_ position before, but he'd never managed to get his assailant off him before.

Now he had to leave a little message for anyone who might try their luck on him.

He'd walked away ten minutes later. The boy had 'Hux' carved on his chest, his ripped-off penis in his mouth, and he'd just finished choking to death. Hux knew the blaster wound on his shoulder would scar, even after he'd dressed it with burn cream and gauze, but it was worth it.

Now…

He shouldn't have mentioned that wound to Ben. Ben wouldn't want to hear that story. At least he had enough experience with morphate intoxication to make something up.

Ben had said he wanted to go to Hoth. Hux wanted to please Ben. He consulted his new star map, and set a course, for Hoth.


	8. Operatic Lullabies

**Runaways Chapter 8 Operatic Lullabies**

Ben lay on the bunk, squished between the wall and Hux. Of course they could take advantage of the second bunk room, but there was something fun about sharing a bed. Hux was in a very good mood for someone who'd been shot several hours earlier, and Ben was happy for him.

Hux, it seemed, had something of a passion for opera. Imperial opera, naturally, which tended to be more formal than the simpler operas the Republic favoured. It was strange how tastes changed so much within such short periods of time. But then, both the Empire and the Republic actively tried to be different from each other.

Hux was singing the story of a prince, whose parents were murdered by revolutionaries, and was forced to go into exile until he could return home, overthrow the rebels, and crown himself king. At least, that's what Hux had said the opera was about. It was hard to follow the words, and Hux had a pronounced tendency to croak the high notes. And sing the girls' parts in silly voices. This made his current piece, a duet between the prince and a maidservant from a neighbouring kingdom, particularly amusing.

" _Oh I love you so, but this is not meant to be._

_My prince, am I not fairer far than she?_

_You are as the moon and stars, my dear._

_Is my voice not renowned far and near?_

_Your voice is more glorious than angels' song._

_Then why must you deny me for so long?_

_Because your lady must become my wife._

_You like her not; t'will be a loveless life._

Ben, this next bit's tricky, because they're both singing those last two lines over each other."

Hux tried to replicate the feat that clearly required two voices, and descended into a coughing fit when his throat caught on the twisted song.

Ben laughed as Hux buried his head in the pillow to hide his blush. He wrapped an arm around the older boy, and coaxed him into showing his face again. "I don't think you quite have the knack for that piece," he grinned. "Maybe sometime you can teach me the maid's part, and we can sing together?"

"Maybe," Hux murmured. "'S sad, though. 'Cause the prince has to marry the princess, see? It's his duty. And o'course he takes the maid as his mistress, and she helps him overthrow the rebel government, but he gets her pregnant before he has his heir by his wife, an' so the princess has her killed. The prince is totally devastated, an' even though he won back his throne, he kinda lets his wife take over and run the kingdom to ruin. It's a warning, see, 'cause he was such a strong leader, until he made a fool of himself for love."

"That is very sad," Ben agreed. "Don't you know any cheerful operas?"

"Not many," Hux mumbled. His eyelids were drooping; he seemed to be dropping off. "Lots of 'em are about a boy falling for the wrong girl, and it ruins his life 'cause he can't control himself. Or there's the ones about too-merciful rulers. And some epics based on ancient legends from various planets, but I don't know those ones so well."

"Imperial opera is so depressing," Ben sighed.

Hux hummed to himself, but didn't answer. After a moment, Ben glanced over, and found he'd fallen asleep.

Ben smiled fondly. He was starting to really like Hux, even if he had some very strange quirks. He snuggled deeper into the former cadet's embrace, and used the Force to summon the velvet bag with Vader's helmet. He hugged it, and thought of Grandfather.

"Your Empire did have some very interesting traditions," he murmured, and tried to picture Vader at the opera, listening to that duet, and then nodded off himself, still cuddling the wrapped helmet.

* * *

Hux wasn't entirely sure what he'd done the previous night. Let's see…they'd dressed his burn, and strapped his ankle, and he'd taken morphates. Then…had he seriously gone into the technical details of a standard issue Stormtrooper's blaster rifle? That was dry stuff at the best of times. And he'd laid in a course and got them underway under autopilot, because…because Ben had wanted to go the Hoth. Why would he want to go to Hoth? No one in their right mind would want to go to Hoth. Then they'd eaten far more field rations than they could spare, and…he'd been singing, hadn't he? Oh dear. But his feet didn't hurt, so he probably hadn't tried to dance without his pointe shoes.

He didn't have pointe shoes anymore. They were hidden in a secret compartment in his bedroom back on Arkanis. He wasn't going back there, so he wouldn't be able to dance on his toes any more. He'd miss that. It did stretch his muscles most excellently.

And he'd apparently managed to go to sleep _snuggling_ with Ben. He did not snuggle. Letting someone close enough to snuggle wasn't safe. He didn't even snuggle with his more frequent lovers, although 'lover' wasn't exactly the most accurate description. And Ben was hugging…something. Something black and slightly furry.

Hux levered himself out of bed, trying not to wake the younger boy. Unfortunately he jostled his burnt side, and hissed in pain.

"Wha'?" Ben mumbled, eyes flickering open. "'ux?"

Hux grimaced. "Morning, Ben. Sleep well?"

Ben yawned. "Not bad. Your opera was nearly as good as a bedtime story."

Hux made a sort of embarrassed squeak before he could stop himself. Then an alarm blared.

"We're dropping out of hyperspace," Hux said, grateful for the distraction. He headed for the cockpit. "Which means we should be here."

"'Here'? Where?" Ben asked, following.

"Hoth, of course."

"What?! Why did you take us to Hoth?!"

"You said you wanted to go."

"I- no. I said I'd heard things. They weren't _good_ things."

"Oh." Hux focused on the ice planet before them. "Well…we're here now. Want to visit anyway?"

Ben slid into the co-pilot's seat. "Yeah, why not."


	9. The Ice Base

 

**Runaways Chapter 9 The Ice Base**

It was fortunate Hux had been so insistent on them buying clothing for a variety of climates, because they had enough layers to make the frozen air of Hoth tolerable. Ben had dredged up the co-ordinates of the old Echo Base from his memory of everything his parents – everything Leia Organa and Han Solo – had told him about the Rebellion. No-one had ever returned to strip out or dismantle it, and it hadn't been a comprehensive evacuation when Vader attacked. The hangar door had even been left open, and Ben easily guided the _Tydirium_ down.

"I wonder why no-one ever came back," Hux mused. "I mean, the Rebels mined the databases, and there wasn't really any equipment worth recovering, but I wonder why the Rebels or the Republic never came back."

"Too cold," Ben shrugged, curling into his jacket. "It would cost more in fuel to come and heat the base for a short time than they'd save retrieving the equipment."

"Huh," Hux muttered. "Guess we might as well retrieve whatever we like."

"Might even be some fuel," Ben mused. "Worth looking for at least."

"And we still need to find some bacta, and maybe more rations," Hux added

"And then we can make snowships," Ben said happily.

"Snowships?" Hux asked. "What're those?"

"You get snow, and mold it into the shape of a starship," Ben shrugged. "Some people make snowmen, but I prefer ships. I do a mean TIE Advanced."

"TIEs are decent fighters, but they're nothing near as majestic as a Super Star Destroyer," Hux commented. "Although they are much easier for a solo pilot to fly."

"Doesn't a Super Star Destroyer need thousands of crewmen?" Ben asked.

"An Executor-class would have a crew complement nearing three hundred thousand," Hux agreed. "But they are beautiful. So sleek, so elegant, so astonishingly destructive…"

"You make one of those, then," Ben giggled. "C'mon, let's see if there's anything left in the armoury."

They scurried down the corridors, and eventually came to a closed door. The mechanism was frozen, but they managed to pry it open. The corridors beyond were somewhat warmer, having been insulated from the ice a little.

"Why is this place so cold?" Hux griped. "I almost miss the rain."

"Must be all the ice," Ben mumbled. He started opening doors. "Bunk room, bunk room, bunk room…laundry!"

"Laundry?" Hux crinkled his nose.

Ben elbowed him, the sharpness blunted by layers of jumpers, jackets and coats. "Clothes," he said. "Scarves, hats, coats, gloves…warm things."

"That sounds good," Hux nodded. They slipped into the cramped room, and started poking through the piles of abandoned clothing. The scarves and hats and gloves were stiff with frost, but they batted it off and wrapped themselves up even more.

"Let's try this way," Hux said when they reached a junction. They went left, and kept peeking in bunk rooms and storerooms and 'freshers, looking for something interesting.

"What's this?" Ben asked, when they came across a larger storeroom full of packs. Hux dragged one onto the table, and cracked it open.

"Outdoors survival kit," he announced. "We've got a collapsible tent and bedroll, and a burner, and this is a moisture extraction unit, and that one's a comm and location unit. These empty pockets are probably for medkits, ration packs and spare clothing. And this little bottle has methylated spirits to fuel the burner. I'm keeping this."

"Should I take one too?" Ben asked.

Hux shrugged. "I don't think you'd need it. The tent should be big enough for two, we'd only need one burner and extraction unit, and I did get that big pack earlier. Just fish out another comm and location unit and that'll do."

Hux shouldered the pack as Ben dug out the necessary unit. "What's next?"

"Dunno," Ben shrugged. "Just keep looking in doors?"

The next interesting room was the armoury. Hux was delighted, because a plentiful supply of personal armament had been left behind. Small blasters, rifles, even a few cases of various grenades.

"Now this is the good stuff," he crowed. "Is that- Oh, I always wanted one of those sniper rifles. C'mon, Ben; help yourself."

Ben looked over the racks of small arms. He was Jedi; he'd never really taken to blasters, but a less conspicuous weapon, and a ranged one at that, would be handy. He weighed a couple of pistols, before choosing a small-ish one and strapping the holster to his hip.

Hux reappeared, grinning like a loon, the sniper rifle over his shoulder, two medium-sized blasters on his hips, and a case of grenades under one arm. "I went half-and-half laser and shrapnel," he said, gesturing to the case. "Never know when a grenade could come in handy."

Ben shrugged. "I prefer my saber."

"Well, I prefer my knives, but versatility's a most important virtue," Hux said philosophically. "It's just a pity we can't take everything."

"Why not?"

"No point, really, and it would just clutter up the shuttle," Hux shrugged. "Although…some might be worth a pretty penny to collectors."

"Load some of those onto the shuttle?" Ben suggested. "If you think we can sell them, that'll stretch the credits a little further."

"Now you're thinking," Hux smirked. "And then we can raid the medbay, if there's anything worth taking."

"You know what? I think I could like the renegade lifestyle," Ben grinned.

Hux flashed him a quick smile, and handed over a dozen of the sniper rifles.


	10. The Chef's Nightmare

**Runaways Chapter 10 The Chef's Nightmare**

"That is _so cold,_ " Hux gasped. He tugged his coat tighter and curled into himself a bit.

"Yeah, frosty," Ben agreed. He moved closer, and Hux started as the kid wormed himself under his arm. "How long until this place warms up? And why are we even here?"

"I told you we needed more supplies." Hux tried to shrug, but Ben was in the way. "You agreed it would be worth checking the mess room and kitchens."

"That was before we found they'd been open to the elements for fifteen years," Ben complained. " _And_ that the heat regulators malfunctioned."

"Just means the food's more likely to be well preserved," Hux grinned.

"Great…" Ben groaned.

Eventually, Hux uncurled himself. "Sooner we get through this, sooner we can get back to the shuttle," he said. "You want to search the cupboards here while I check the kitchens?"

Ben grumbled a little more, but stomped through the snow to the cabinets. Hux turned away and found the kitchen.

If any food had been left out, it had long since been eaten by scavengers. But the cupboards looked untouched.

Cooking equipment. More cooking equipment. Catering-size kettle. Lots of jars of coloured powders. Massive sacks of pulses. And the rations.

Hux grinned, and started loading the rations on a trolley. Maybe a sack of pulses as well. That would keep them going for quite some time.

He pushed the trolley through the snow into the mess hall, and promptly got a face full of cold, powdery snow. He brushed it off, and stared at Ben, crestfallen. "What was that for?"

"This stuff doesn't make a good snowball," Ben said, disappointed.

Hux blinked at him. "But why did you _throw it at me_?"

"Because that's what you do with snow?" Ben asked, looking confused. "I throw it at you, you throw it at me?"

Hux shook his head. "That makes no sense," he complained.

Ben huffed. "You try throwing some."

It seemed stupid, but Hux scooped up some snow, and flung it at Ben, who raised his arm to deflect the ice crystals. "Not seeing the appeal," Hux shrugged.

Ben raised an eyebrow, and flung another handful of snow, which fell short and splashed across the trolley. "I bet you'd have had great fun if it ever snowed at your Academy," he commented.

Throwing handfuls of snow at each other. Handfuls of snow that could so easily conceal a grenade. And there was that landmine craze five years ago; that would have been _awesome_ with a layer of snow everywhere so you couldn't see where you were putting your feet. But Ben wouldn't want to know that. "I'm sure," Hux said instead. "Did you find anything?"

"Nah, just cups, plates, bowls, that stuff," Ben dismissed. "Was it really just rations in there?"

"Well, if you want to check to see if there's anything else worth taking, I'll just load these up," Hux said. "What's wrong with rations?"

"Don't you ever want something different?"

"…it's easier to monitor nutritional intake with rations."

Hux left quickly. He'd very rarely had a meal that wasn't rations. There were the treats passed around the cadet force, contraband, like the drugs and alcohol. And he'd eaten at the fitness centre occasionally. But his father's nanny droids had weaned him on rations, and that had been his main fare ever since. It was hard to remember civilians almost always ate other food.

He'd have thought Inquisitors would favour rations too, but Ben was only a runaway trainee.

He returned to find Ben had piled the kitchen counter high with packets and boxes and tubs and even a few bottles. "All that?" Hux asked incredulously. He looked at a few things. Milk, frozen solid. Sugar. Salt. Something called pasta, apparently made of wheat. Several jars of coloured powder. Canned vegetables. And- "Fresh meat?"

"Technically, it's frozen," Ben corrected. "There's a freezing unit in the shuttle's cooler, so we can hack off a portion to defrost for dinner, and keep the rest frozen."

Hux had never actually had real meat. He'd been taught a little about catching, killing and preparing wild animals during wilderness survival training, but they'd never actually practised. "Ben, I don't have the first clue how to cook any of this," he admitted.

Ben stared at him, then shook his head with a surprised sort of laugh. "Seriously? Even I know a bit. Can you even do griddle cakes?"

"It wasn't something we were taught," Hux said evasively. He hadn't even heard of griddle cakes. "What's that powder?"

"Seasonings," Ben explained. "Like…flavouring? Adds a bit of pep to a dish?" He must have picked up on Hux's inadequately-hidden bafflement. "Have you seriously only ever eaten plain rations?"

For a moment, Hux hated himself, because he could feel a flush rising in his cheeks. "There was always caf," he protested. Ben was looking at him with something that could be close to pity. "Look, rations are easiest for mass catering. I just got used to it."

"Well, I'm making curry tonight," Ben said. "And I'll teach you how to make griddle cakes. They're a lot easier to make from scratch than toast, 'cause there's no bread. But that extra burner of yours will be real useful. It'll give us space for an extra pot."

Hux sighed. "Let's get this… _stuff_ loaded up. My toes are freezing."


	11. Adjustment Period

**Runaways Chapter 11 Adjustment Period**

Ben watched as Hux poked his dinner. The seasonings used were past their best, and he'd had to add a lot to get it as fiery as he was used to. He'd had to fry the meat separately before stewing it in the sauce; it was just so frozen. Hux had shown him how to set up the burner, and kept an eye on the frying meat, letting Ben concentrate on the sauce and the steamed grain.

"I'm not sure about this," Hux said dubiously. "Are you sure it's fine?"

Ben scooped up a forkful of food and tried it. The flavour exploded in his mouth. Maybe a little too much seasoning, but pretty good. The meat was wonderfully tender at least. "It's all good."

Hux took a mouthful of his own, and his eyes bulged. "That's…that's…hot?"

"Too much flavour?" Ben asked.

"Yeah… _much_ too much," Hux gasped. He took a swig of water and pulled a face. "How do I stop it burning?"

"Milk," Ben said. It was so hard not to laugh; Hux was just so...perturbed by a simple curry. "You can just scrape the sauce off, you know."

"I think I'll have to," Hux grumbled. "Akk, that's fiery."

"It is a little more than I was aiming for," Ben admitted. "How's the grain?"

Hux scooped up a little plain grain and tried it. "Not bad," he shrugged. "I think I could like that."

Ben sighed. "You're meant to mix it with the sauce, because on its own it's rather plain," he pointed out. "But I guess I'll just have to serve you plain grain and meat."

Hux hummed, and scraped a piece of meat clean of sauce before popping it in his mouth. "Oh, wow," he gasped. "That's…quite something."

"A good something or bad something?" Ben asked curiously.

"Hard to tell; it's still so flavoursome," Hux replied. "Texture's…is it meant to be like that?"

"It's probably because it's been frozen for so long," Ben explained apologetically.

"I'd rather stick to rations."

Ben shook his head. Weird preference, but who was he to object? "I'll find something you like."

"Ration soup and caf."

Ben snickered, and Hux smiled wryly. "Whatever. Where are we going next?"

Hux shrugged. "Have any preferences? Or should we look to sell off those weapons?"

"I don't really mind," Ben mumbled. "Where would we sell the stuff?"

Hux laced his fingers together, a pensive look taking over. "These rifles, they were dirt cheap fifteen years ago, but they're vintage now," he mused. "Partly because the model that replaced them proved to be quite unstable over a long range, and newer makes never quite perfected the range to stability trade-off. So these are valuable to collectors, but also to the more discerning hitman. The difficulty is that we'd attract too much attention going to either person. Collectors would probably turn us in to the Order or the Republic, and a hitman would probably cross us off rather than paying us. Our other option is flog 'em cheap to an intermediary. We wouldn't get as much, but we wouldn't be in as much danger."

Ben thought. He'd heard all sorts of stories about his Da- about _Han's_ misadventures with bounty hunters and smugglers and all those sort of nefarious people. A small show of strength, combined with the possibility of future mutually beneficial business, would pacify most moderately-reputable underworlders. "I have an idea there," he offered. "I know where to find some blackmarketeers. You'd have to be a bit aggressive with them, and as you said, we wouldn't get as much as if we dealt with the buyers personally, but they'll be more likely to listen to a couple of kids."

"Sounds like a plan," Hux nodded. "Is there anything we should do in advance to help ensure our success?"

"Going visibly armed," Ben said instantly. "Being quick to draw is seen as a sign of strength, so don't be afraid to fire a few shots. Oh, and if you know the names of any of the collectors or hitmen who'd like the rifles, that might help if our intermediary doesn't think he can sell on. The other thing we can offer is future business. So ask about other items he may be interested in, what he might pay for them, if he has any leads on where they might be, but don't accept any retrieval contracts. It would be standard for a contractor to be paid in advance, but we can't afford to default – we'd get a bounty put on us, and that won't help at all. Going freelance would be a sound long term possibility, but we'd have to get contacts with multiple intermediaries, 'cause freelancers are seen as easy targets. Promise 'em fifty, pay twenty on delivery, you know. You're more likely to get the full payment if you can quote a rival."

Hux whistled. "You know a lot about this."

Ben bit his lip, and refocused on the remains of his dinner, but his appetite had fled. "My…my father was…in that line of work," he admitted. "He taught me a few things."

"Lucky for us," Hux said. "You got co-ordinates, planet names?"

"Um, yeah, a few," Ben muttered. "Mostly in Hutt space."

"We can't risk Republic space, and Imperial space seems awfully risky for us right now," Hux shrugged. "Hutt space sounds as good as any."

Ben nodded. He kept remembering Han's tall tales, Leia and Luke laughing as Chewie corrected him. Flashes of his past. Moments he'd thought of as happy, but now just seemed…empty. _'They never cared, not really. They just wanted to have a little fun with each other.'_ It was getting difficult to breathe, a lump in his throat constricting his windpipe and tears stinging his eyes.

"Hey." Ben looked up as Hux laid a hand on his shoulder. "You don't like your folks. Doesn't mean you can't take what little they gave you, eh? They don't matter now. Just you and me against the galaxy, remember?"

Ben smiled. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "You and me against the galaxy."

"Exactly." Hux grinned, something wicked in the glint in his eyes. "And we're gonna _win_."


	12. Another Day, Another Planet

**Runaways Chapter 12 Another Day, Another Planet**

"This is the _Tydirium_ to Nar Utta spaceport, requesting a landing berth."

" _Tydirium, this is Nar Utta. Landing and two days' berthing is four truguts, one trugut every day after._ "

Hux bit his lip. "Do you take Imperial credits?"

There was a rough laugh. " _No-one round here takes Imp creds. That all you got?_ "

Hux glanced at Ben, who was guiding the shuttle in lazy loops around the spaceport while he negotiated, and looked nervous. "We're here to trade," Hux said, keeping his voice level. "We can pay credits up front, or truguts on departure."

" _Put your ship up as security, and we can cut a deal,_ " the port master offered.

Hux looked back at Ben, who nodded. "Acceptable. Please transmit your berth beacon ident."

There was a beep, and the comm panel displaced a ten-digit code for the beacon that would guide them to the right berth. Hux scanned, selected the right signal, and sent it across to Ben's helm. Ben nodded absently, and brought the shuttle down.

Hux rolled up his sleeves, leaving his knives clearly visible, and strapped his blaster holsters to his belt. "Confident, willing to shoot anyone who gets in my way," he muttered to himself.

"Cocky swagger," Ben suggested, nestling his blaster comfortably on his hip, but leaving the saber out of sight.

"Cocky swagger," Hux echoed, and swaggered cockily towards the boarding ramp.

"Not a swagger as much as prowl," he heard Ben mutter. "And that's not a really a look of 'Don't mess with me'. More 'I will tear your throat out with my teeth if you give me an excuse'."

Hux sighed. "Did you pack up the rifles earlier?"

"Yeah, but I left yours out," the preteen nodded.

"Good. That one's not for sale, so we can use it as a demonstration unit. Why don't you carry it? That'll give you two visible weapons."

Ben grinned. "It'll look so big on me. Sounds fun."

Hux smirked, and shouldered his backpack full of rifles. Ben slung the remaining one over his shoulder, and Hux dropped the boarding ramp. "Lock up after us," Hux muttered.

Nar Utta was dry and dusty. Most of it was completely uninhabitable, with the only settlement near the North Pole. There were a few homesteads further out, but Nar Utta was the only one worth mentioning. The sun was hot, something Hux had little experience of. He and Ben had both pulled out their lightest outfits, and left their jackets behind.

The port master was waiting for them, datapad in hand. "Crew complement?" he asked gruffly.

Hux fixed him with a hard look, then gave in. "Just two."

"Names?"

"Zander Ardeen," Hux said, giving the fake name he'd coined for his ballet classes. What to give for Ben… "And my cousin Ren."

"Zander…and Ren…Ardeen," the port master muttered. "Who can't pay their berthing charges."

Hux raised an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly willing to pay Imperial credits," he said. "I believe the exchange rate is ten credits per trugut."

"No one takes creds," the port master repeated. "If that's all you've got, I'll keep your shuttle."

Hux dropped one hand to a blaster meaningfully. "We have business with the broker Anat Potdrum."

The port master grunted. "He doesn't take creds either. What business do you have with him?"

" _Our_ business," Hux growled.

"We're selling," Ben said quickly. Hux shot him a glance, but he knew these sorts of people better. He probably knew what he was doing.

"Right," the port master said, slightly sceptically. "Four truguts minimum. That'll give you two days. Then you've one more day on the standard charge of one trugut a day before it goes up to two. If you don't pay it all after ten days, you forfeit the shuttle."

"Ten days on the normal rate," Hux countered. "Twenty before confiscation."

"Four, and twelve."

"Eight and seventeen."

"Five and fifteen. Final offer."

Hux glanced at Ben, who nodded minutely. "We have a deal."

The port master tapped out the details into the datapad. "Thumb print."

Hux took the pad and read it over, scanning the terms. It all looked in order, so he pressed his thumb to the reader and drew out the stylus to sign. "I don't suppose you could direct us to Broker Potdrum?"

The port master reclaimed the datapad. "Main Street's right outside. Go left, third on the right, first left. Cantina called Yness. Most folks like him hang around there."

"Left, third right, first left, Yness," Hux echoed. "Nice doing business with you."

The port master snorted, and Hux swaggered (prowled) off, Ben following behind. "Didn't know you could barter," the younger boy hissed.

"Neither did I; I was improvising," Hux replied. "Worked though."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure he'll keep to it," Ben shrugged. "He'll accept payment if we get it soon enough, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to take the shuttle early."

"Is that likely?"

Ben shrugged. "If he doesn't see us in a day or two, he'll probably start making inquiries about selling it on. Most port masters prefer the neutrality of legitimate business, but aren't above a little gouging." He paused for a moment, shifting the rifle on his shoulder. "Where'd you get the names from?"

Hux twitched, just avoiding it turning into a full flinch. "It's a name I've used before. I had to make something up for you, and I figured that if it was something I misheard, you'd be more likely to respond to it. Sorry, I should have asked if you already had a pseudonym."

"No, it's fine. Good reasoning. I-"

" _Meow_."

They both froze at the unexpected sound. "Did you hear that?" Hux asked, frowning.

Ben tilted his head. "I thought I did…"

" _Meow_." There was a scuffling, and Hux looked down as something crashed into his foot.

It was a cat. Hux hadn't seen a real one before, but it wouldn't have been appropriate if he'd been a guest at someone's house and not known the difference between a pet and vermin. The creature climbing his boot was probably full-grown, being just under a foot from nose to the tip of the tail. It was a beautiful orange on top with a white underside. Its little claws pricked his leg as it climbed up.

Hux reached down, and carefully pulled it off his trousers. "Hello," he murmured. "Who do you belong to?"

"Hux? You do know it can't talk?" Ben said. He reached out, and gently rubbed the top of the cat's head.

Hux hummed. "Think we should ask at the cantina?"

Ben shrugged. "Suppose we could. We wouldn't want to offend anyone by stealing their pet. But he doesn't have a collar, so he might be a stray."

Hux set the cat on his shoulder, where it nuzzled his cheek. "Cute thing, isn't he? We better find his owner."

"Pity we can't keep him."

"Pity."


	13. Deals Struck

**Runaways Chapter 13 Deals Struck**

Ben trailed just behind Hux into the Yness cantina. Hux's attempt at swaggering really was far too predatory, but the knives on his arms and blasters on his hips helped back up his attitude nicely. And the cat on his shoulder definitely helped, even if it was purring and rubbing against his cheekbone.

Hux approached the bar, and drummed his fingers on the counter, his stare boring a hole until the barman came over. "What'll it be, boys?"

"You take Imperial credits?" Hux asked. Ben knew the answer would be no, but Hux had to ask.

The barman scoffed. "Don't be a fool, boy," he sneered.

"Information, then," Hux said smoothly. "We're looking for Anat Potdrum."

"And how much is it worth to you?" The barman was smirking, because he knew Hux couldn't pay.

"Well, we can't buy your lovely drinks until we conclude our business with him," Hux drawled.

The barman huffed a laugh. "Ask around. He comes in most days."

Hux inclined his head in acknowledgement. "One last little matter. We found this cat. Is there someone we should return him to?"

The barman peered at the cat, and started. "You just found her in the street?" he said, aghast. "And she let you pick her up?"

"She-cat, is she?" Hux said idly. "Yes, she just came over to us and climbed my leg. Sweet thing, isn't she?" Ben hopped up on a bar stool so he could reach up and scratch the cat's cheek.

The barman was still staring. "Sweet? That little hell-beast? She hasn't tried to bite you or anything?"

"No; why?" Hux frowned.

The barman shook his head. "She's a stray. You can keep her. She's yours, just take her away!"

Ben sighed theatrically. "We can't leave until we've done our business with Potdrum," he said. "But can we keep the cat, dear cousin?"

"Might be hard if we can't find Potdrum," Hux mused.

The barman made a noise. "Potdrum's over there," he pointed. "Now get that creature away from me."

Hux smirked. "Thank you for your time." He stalked off towards the corner where Potdrum supposedly was. Ben jumped down and followed him.

"Anat Potdrum?" Hux asked the man.

Probably-Potdrum looked up. "Who wants to know?"

"We're looking to do business with him," Ben said. "Would you be him, or were we misdirected?"

The man gestured to the chairs opposite him. "That's me. Sit down, kids. What d'ya want?"

Hux sat down, and after a moment Ben followed suit. "We have some vintage rifles for sale. I know of three collectors who would definitely be interested, and I have a list of others who might be. We aren't in a position to sell them ourselves, but we can pass on our leads."

"Rifles, huh?" Potdrum said. "Let's see 'em."

Ben swung the rifle off his shoulder. "This one's not for sale, but they're the same model."

Potdrum took the rifle and examined it. "I'll need to see the actual ones you're selling."

Hux shouldered the bag off his back. "Got them right here."

Potdrum handed the rifle back, and took the bag. "Renowned make," he commented approvingly. "Where'd you get them?"

"Hoth," Hux shrugged. "We happened to be in the area."

"Hoth?" Potdrum scoffed. "That place was cleared out years ago."

"Misconception," Ben interjected. "The Rebel Alliance never had the resources to return until after the fall of the Empire, by which point they thought anything of value would be gone."

"And the Empire didn't think it was worth expending the resources to strip the place," Hux continued. "It seems everyone assumed someone else had got there first."

"Much left there?"

"Not anymore," Hux shrugged. "We took the best stuff with us."

Potdrum hummed. "Got those leads?"

Hux produced a datapad, and passed it over. "Keep the chip."

Potdrum glanced over the list, then took the chip out and gave the data pad back. "We'll need to test fire them, but if they check out, I'll give you five truguts apiece."

Hux tilted his head. "Ten."

Potdrum barked a laugh. "That's what I'd make selling 'em on. Be serious, boy."

"Don't try to kid us," Ben retorted quickly. "You'll make at least fifteen each. And we're selling you eight, and not selling this one. You'll control the market on 'em. You can charge what you like. Ten truguts each."

"Six each," Potdrum countered.

"Seventy-five for all of them," Hux suggested.

"Fifty."

"Seventy."

"I'll meet you halfway, kid," Potdrum offered. "Sixty for the lot."

Ben caught Hux's eye and nodded. "Deal," Hux said. "Do we want to test them now?"

Potdrum eyed him. "You're in a hurry."

"No-one around here accepts our Imperial credits," Hux shrugged. "Forgive us for wanting some local currency sooner rather than later."

Potdrum grunted. "Fine, fine, we'll go to my firing range."

Hux stood. "Lead the way."

Potdrum rose, and Hux grabbed the bag of guns before the broker could. Ben swung their rifle back over his shoulder, and nudged Hux. "Ask about other jobs," he whispered.

Hux nodded. "Mr Potdrum? Do have anything in particular you'd like retrieved?"

"You in the market for a contract?" Potdrum asked.

"We're staying freelance, actually," Hux said mildly. "But we don't have any firm plans. So if you have a list of items you'd be interested in and any leads you may have, you might hear from us again."

"We'll have to see if you've brought anything worth buying first," Potdrum grunted.

"We'll be in trouble if those aren't worth buying," Ben muttered. They'd already racked up a debt to the spaceport.

"We only intend to bring quality products," Hux assured the broker. "They worked last time we tried them. Admittedly, that was on Hoth, and I'm not completely positive what effect the cold may have had on them."

Potdrum's firing range could perhaps be more accurately described as a large rundown old shed, but Ben was hardly about to mention it. The broker clearly knew his way around a rifle. They laid the eight rifles on the bench, and Potdrum picked up the first to fire it. He took aim, and pulled the trigger.

The Force hummed, and Ben felt everything slow down around him a little. The sound of the rifle discharge stretched, and Ben felt his eyes drawn to the tiny cat perched on Hux's shoulder. She jerked at the noise, and her legs coiled, before she flung herself forward. Her claws were extended as she flew for Potdrum.

Ben raised his hand, feeling the Force curl around him, and wrapped it around the cat. He held her firm, then pulled her towards him, and caught her. Then everything returned to normal speed.

Hux turned to look at Ben, and Potdrum was staring. "I don't think she likes all this noise," he said weakly. "I'll just…take her outside…"

He bolted.

Hopefully Hux could come up with something.


	14. One Forward, Two Back

**Runaways Chapter 14 One Forward, Two Back**

Hux picked up the second of the rifles, handing it to Potdrum and ignoring the events of the last few seconds. The cat attacking Potdrum would almost certainly have soured the deal, but Ben revealing himself as a Force user could prove disastrous.

"As you can see, the discharge is still effective," Hux said, affecting an air of nonchalance as he gestured towards the perfectly perforated target. "The rest of the batch should be in as good condition."

"What's your name, boy?" Potdrum asked. He didn't look at Hux as he aimed and fired the rifle down the range.

"Ardeen," Hux said. "Zander Ardeen. And that's my cousin Ren outside."

They swapped out for the next rifle. "Your Ren seems…unusually talented."

Hux tensed. "These things happen around him," he said, knowing how lame it sounded.

Potdrum grunted. "As long as it's only moving things," he grunted. "I find he's been messing with my mind, I'll have a bounty on you that'll get everyone in the sector hunting you."

"I've never known him to use the mental arts," Hux said quickly. "But I'll pass it on. I'm sure honest trading will be more beneficial for both of us in the long run."

"I'm sure." They were silent as they finished test-firing the rifles. Eventually, Potdrum set down the eighth and last rifle. "These all seem to be in order. I think we have a deal," he declared. "Fifty truguts all in."

"Sixty," Hux corrected quickly. One hand shot out the grab the nearest rifle, while the other dropped to its blaster.

Potdrum chuckled. "Sixty it is." He turned to a small safe, and fiddled with the lock. He counted out the chips, and waited until Hux returned the rifle before handing over the chips.

Hux counted them. "Four truguts per peggat," he muttered to himself. "Five, ten, fifteen – can you possibly break up this last five-peggat chip into smaller denominations?"

Potdrum took the chip back, and swapped it for two one-peggat pieces, eight truguts, and sixteen wupiupis. Hutt currency favoured multiples of four, which made it a little difficult to get the exchange rate right, when one trugut equalled ten credits, making one wupiupi sixty-two and a half centicreds. But it was all in order.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Hux said cheerily, pocketing the money. "Those other jobs you might have?"

Potdrum flapped a hand. "You go get your lunch down at the cantina," he advised. "I'll be along later with a list for you."

"I look forward to doing more business with you in the future," Hux nodded, and stepped out of the range.

Ben was leaning against the wall next to the door, clutching the cat and looking nervous. Hux smiled.

"All sorted," he said. "Deal done, cash in hand, no foul on your part as long as you stay out of his mind."

Ben huffed out. "That's a relief."

Hux hummed, and took the cat. "Who's a good little puss-puss?" he murmured, stroking her head. "She been good for you?"

"She took a moment to calm down after the rifle blasts, but yeah, she's been fine," Ben shrugged. "So can we keep her?"

Hux sighed. It would be a bit of extra hassle, but she was a cute little thing, and how hard could it be to look after a cat? "Alright, then. Can you run this down to the port master, and meet me back at the cantina?" He fished out one of the one-peggat pieces and passed it over.

"Sure." Ben flashed him a quick smile, scratched the cat's cheek, and took off. Hux followed at a more sedate pace, returning to the cantina.

He kept a firm hold on the cat as he approached the bar. The barman still seemed very wary of her as he came over. "Got some proper money?" he asked, sneering a little.

Hux fixed him with a grin he knew showed just a little too much teeth to be entirely benign. "I do indeed. What do you sell regarding food?"

"Lunch special today is stew," the barman announced. "That do you, or you want the whole menu?"

"Stew will do just fine," Hux decided. Didn't sound terribly appealing to him, but any food is fuel. "What non-alcoholic drinks do you have?"

"Non-alcoholic?" the barman scoffed. "Too much of a wimp to hold your liquor?"

Hux raised an eyebrow imperiously. "Oh, _I'll_ have a double of your finest whiskey," he announced. "But you can hardly expect my young cousin to be on the hard stuff already."

Well, you _could_. By the time Hux was Ben's age he'd been drinking and using hardcore drugs for years, but that's the Academy for you. Hux had met enough civilian children at his ballet classes to know this was unusual.

The barman huffed. "There's cherry soda, or milk."

"A soda, and some milk in a dish for the kitty then," Hux told him. "How much would that be in total?"

"Two stews, a double of whiskey, one soda and a dish of milk," the barman muttered. "Fifteen wupiupi." He started pouring the drinks.

Hux fished in his pocket, and pulled out a trugut. "Keep the change." The barman froze, squinting at Hux suspiciously. Hux put on a fake angelic look. "For your information earlier."

The barman let up his hostility a little. "You sure know how things work around here."

Hux shrugged. "We might want to do repeat business around here." He took the whiskey and soda, and gestured towards one of the unoccupied tables. "I'll be over there when the stew's ready."

He swaggered over to his chosen table, dropped the cat on the table and started on his whiskey. It was very good. Nice burn.

Ben popped through the door and glanced around, but evidently didn't see him. Before Hux could gesture him over, the barman called out. "Hey, kid?"

Ben bounced up to the bar and smiled. "My cousin here?"

The barman grunted. "What's your name, boy?"

Ben tensed, just a little. "Ren."

The cantina door opened again, and Potdrum came in.

"Ren who?" the barman insisted.

Ben froze, for just a little too long. "Antilles," he decided at last.

Hux stared at him. Oh, dear.


	15. What, Again?

**Runaways Chapter 15 What, Again?**

Ben made a beeline for Hux. He just _knew_ he'd given the wrong name, but he couldn't remember what Hux had said. But if he'd taken any longer to come up with something it would have been even more suspicious.

"Sorry, Hu- Zander," he said, sliding into the seat opposite him. "I just couldn't remember."

"Nice one, Mr Ardeen," Potdrum said, dropping into another chair. "You two are a riot."

Hux furrowed his brow. "Thank you for your concern." He took a sip of his drink. It looked like whiskey. Of course Hux had to drink something alcoholic; at least he wasn't coughing it up again.

Potdrum scoffed. "Look, no-one cares if you use a fake name around here, kids. But there's a lot of people who remember your father, _Ren_. He's got quite a bad rep, and if you're not careful more people will start joining the dots. You two run up any debts here?"

"We paid them off," Hux said quickly. He was eyeballing Ben, and Ben would have to come up with something to tell him later.

"Good," Potdrum grunted. "Listen, Renny, your old man always did business honourably with me, and your cousin Zander here's got a good head on his shoulders. Don't you attract attention, and you should be fine. Got it?"

"Got it," Ben whispered. "No attention."

Potdrum slammed a chip on the table. "Here's the stuff I might wanna buy. Look forward to doing business with you."

"Much appreciated," Hux nodded.

Potdrum picked himself up and sauntered off. Ben reached for his soda and took a drink. "I really am sorry," he mumbled.

"I know," Hux sighed. "Your father, huh?"

Ben's mind blanked. "Uh, well, um…"

"Two stews, and a dish of milk." There was a slight clatter as the barman dropped their platters on the table. "Want more drinks, you come to the bar."

Hux nodded, then distributed the bowls, and lifted the cat off his lap to enjoy the milk. "Lemme get this straight. Your father is involved in this sort of business. Smuggling? Bounty hunting? Retrieval?"

"Smuggling, bit of retrieval," Ben mumbled, not looking up at Hux.

"Right, and his business practise has been a bit dubious, so now we have to avoid most of his past associates?"

"…guess."

Hux sighed. "You get your other talents from your mother, huh?"

His mother. Leia. Heir of Skywalker. Ben flinched. "Could say that."

Hux nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Eat up. We might not have long here."

Ben focused on scooping stew into his mouth as quickly as possible. Hux did the same. The cat finished the milk, and started nuzzling at Ben's bowl.

"Hey hey hey!" Hux hissed. "No, cat. Bad. Leave it." He picked up the animal, and dragged her into his lap.

Ben sniggered.

The afternoon was pleasant. There was a market, and they wandered between stalls, the cat on Hux's shoulder. They finally managed to get a supply of bacta, and Ben talked Hux into getting more food. Fruit and vegetables, fresh seasonings, even some dried fish. Then Hux got a cushion and blanket for the cat.

"Hey!"

Ben froze. There was a distinct tingling in the Force. "Hux…" he whispered.

"Names!" Hux hissed.

"You, kid!"

Ben turned to see three rather angry Rodians brandishing weapons. "Run!" Ben squeaked.

"We're always running!" Hux grunted, but he took to his heels. Ben stuck close, his lightsaber slipping into his hand. Hux had drawn one of his blasters, too.

They got out of the market, and headed for the spaceport. "You definitely paid our berthing fee?" Hux asked.

"'Course I did," Ben gasped. "He was very grateful."

"Good."

There was a zap, and Ben tackled Hux from behind to get them out of the line of fire. Hux rolled, and shot back easily. The cat leapt off Hux's shoulder, and dug her claws into Ben's scalp instead. "You go get the shuttle fired up," Hux instructed. "I'll hold them."

"But-" Ben started, but Hux shot him a determined look. It gave the distinct impression that Ben really ought to do what he was told. The younger boy nodded, and bolted.

He reached out with the Force to disengage the shuttle's locking mechanisms while he was still approaching, and the boarding ramp was down by the time he reached it. He sprinted for the cockpit, dropping the bag of foodstuffs.

He dived into the pilot's seat and started firing up the engines. He removed the cat from his head, and gently tossed her in the navigator's chair. There was a distinct clunk, and Hux's voice wafted in. "It's dealt with, but we _need to leave now_!"

"I don't have co-ordinates or calculations!" Ben yelped.

"Anywhere! Just get us off Nar Utta!" Hux yelled.

Ben brought the shuttle up, and felt a whispering of Force in the back of his mind. It prompted his fingers to insert the figures, and Ben let it.

They left the atmosphere, and entered hyperspace. Then Ben turned to Hux. "What was that about?"

Hux looked rather sheepish. "We might have to be careful if we go back to Nar Utta," he said slowly.

"Why?" Ben asked suspiciously.

"…reasons," Hux mumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ben nodded slowly. "Right. You want to stow the gear?"

Hux jerked his head stiffly. "I'll sort something out for the cat as well." He left.

"We'll need to name her," Ben called after him.

"I'll have a think about it," Hux called back.

Ben looked at the bundle of orange fur in the other seat. "Guess it's him and me and you against the galaxy now, huh, puss?" he said. The cat surveyed him, then jumped into his lap, rubbed against his stomach, and gave a little mew. Ben reached down and scratched her ear until she purred. "Yeah. Him and me and you."


	16. The Search

**Runaways Chapter 16 The Search**

" _Millennium Falcon_ to Nar Utta, requesting landing berth."

" _Falcon? Solo, you're not welcome here._ "

Han gritted his teeth. "I'm paying in advance."

The port master grunted. " _You better. Six truguts, that's two days. Two truguts per day after that._ "

"The rate's gone up," Chewie howled.

"Yeah, but I'll pay it," Han grumbled. "Nar Utta, we accept. Transmit the beacon ID."

Han guided the _Falcon_ down to land, and led the way out to meet the port master. The sun was near-blinding, and by the time he'd blinked the dark spots away, an old friend had found him.

"Captain Solo, how good to see you again," Anat Potdrum said.

"Anat," Han nodded, trying to smile but he was really too tired and worried to put much effort into it. "How's your sister?"

"She's doing great these days; my second niece was born last year," Potdrum commented. "And your boy? Got a holo?"

Han nodded and pulled the image projector from his pocket. Potdrum had called him with news he'd seen someone he thought might be Ben. He tapped the little device, and an image of Ben and Rey appeared.

"That little Ren Ardeen?"

Han looked up as the port master approached. "My son," he said simply.

The port master grunted. "Yeah, some people thought he might be. But that cousin of his is far too sensible."

"Cousin?" Han frowned.

"Yeah," Potdrum answered. "Don't suppose you've got a holo of him, too?"

"Him?" Han repeated, confused. "Ben's only cousin is Rey, and that's her there. She's definitely still home with Leia."

"That's not Zander," the port master said. "Now Zander Ardeen, he did try to pay me with Imperial credits, but he coughed up some proper money soon enough." He gave Han a significant look, who grumbled, pulled out a few chips, and signed off the paperwork.

"So Zander's nothing to do with you?" Potdrum asked, mildly curious, as the port master wandered off back to his office.

"If he's looking after my son I want to meet him," Han said stubbornly. Chewie howled his agreement. "You have no idea who he is?"

Potdrum shrugged. "Ardeen's not his real name, but I don't know what is or if Zander's his either. Your boy managed to forget and give his name as Antilles in the cantina. Zander's about sixteen, roughly your height, bright orange hair. Wears two blasters and two knives."

Han nodded. "And how is Ben?"

Potdrum shrugged again. "He looked alright."

They went to the cantina, and Han listened as Potdrum told him everything that had happened in his interaction with the two boys. It was encouraging to hear that his son was well, had found a source of income, and had even taken a trip to the old base on Hoth. And Han felt a burst of pride when he was told of his easy command of the Force.

"Trust Ben to pick up a furry little friend," Chewie commented, somewhat amused at hearing about the cat.

Han chuckled dryly. "Any idea where they might have gone next?"

Potdrum passed over a chip. "I gave 'em my buying list, so they might pop up anywhere on it. I made inquiries. They bought food, bacta, stuff for the cat. But Ben was identified. You remember the Opgad brothers?"

Han grunted. He'd run into the trio of smugglers several times, competing for the same jobs, and Jut Opgad, the older of the brothers, had tried to steal his smuggle a time or two. "They run my boy out of town?" he asked.

"You…could say that…" Potdrum said slowly. "They're dead. All three of them."

Han blinked, surprised. "They what?"

Potdrum shrugged. "It's not entirely clear. We know your boys left the market being chased by the Opgads. I talked to Agus, down at the port. There was blaster fire, Ben ran into the shuttle and started it up, then the blasters stopped and Zander joined Ben. They took off straight away. The Opgads were found dead of knife wounds."

"You think Zander killed them?" Chewie asked.

Potdrum nodded. "That's the general belief."

"Anyone looking to get back at them about it?" Han asked, concerned.

"Nah; those three had an even worse reputation than you do," Potdrum dismissed. "No loss."

Han smiled wearily. "Thanks, Anat. You've been a good friend."

"You got me my sister back from slavers," Potdrum reminded him. "I'm just paying you back."

"You paid me for that at the time."

"But you didn't let me pay you for icing the hunter who tried to take her back."

Han inclined his head. "You will call me if they turn up again?"

"I'll go one better," Potdrum promised. "I'll try to keep 'em until you get here." He rose. "Good luck, Han. I hope you do catch up with your boy."

Han was left with Chewie. "Maybe we should make our own inquires," the Wookie suggested.

Han drained his drink. "You do that. I should call Leia."

He meandered back to the _Falcon_ alone. It had taken them two days to heal up before they could set off after Ben, and search teams had already left. Luke had stayed long enough to leave at the same time as they had. Leia had been in pieces since they found their son gone. She'd never been one to show too much emotion – partly because she was just a little too much like her father, like Vader, and had to be careful lest she succumb to the Dark Side – but she'd cried herself to sleep both nights.

Han activated the holocomm, and called the private line to Yavin IV. Leia wasted no time in answering. She looked so worn. " _Han? You have news?_ "

Han smiled hopefully. "Yeah. Old business partner of mine saw him. He's fine, and he's made a friend."


	17. Internal Repercussions

**Runaways Chapter 17 Internal Repercussions**

Hux looked himself in the mirror, and couldn't understand the shame he felt. These weren't his first kills; not by a long way. Sure, forgoing his blasters and knifing the shooters may have been a little gratuitous, but Ben had told him being quick to strike was expected. It was just…

He remembered the first words Ben had said to him, ' _You going to kill me too?_ ', moments after killing another two men for him. His ease in killing had scared the younger boy. And Hux couldn't blame him. How would Ben react if, _when_ , he found out what Hux had done?

Hux opened the small bottle of industrial spirits he'd taken from next to the burner in the galley, and poured a measure into a flask before topping it up with water. He'd purposely taken a spare keg of spirits fuel from Hoth, knowing he'd be doing this. He knocked back nearly half the drink in one gulp, grimacing at the bitterness of the chemicals put in to prevent doing just this.

The alcohol burned his throat as it went down, and Hux gasped. He'd never drunk anything this strong before.

He'd never felt this sort of guilt before.

* * *

* * *

 

Hux _had_ to be an adrenaline junkie. Less than two hours after being shot at, he was singing again.

"What's this one about?" Ben asked, smiling indulgently as he prepared the fried fish dinner.

"This baron, who gets deceived by his peasants when they plead for leniency, an' so the peasants become sooo lazy the king has the baron executed," Hux related. He had the cat in his arms, and kept bouncing her up and catching her.

"And I thought it couldn't get more depressing than the one about the prince and his lover," Ben grumbled.

Hux giggled. Actually giggled. Ben whirled to stare at him, then turned back as the pan started spitting fat. "It's a common theme in opera," Hux explained.

"You know what I like?" Ben said. "One of those stories where everyone's the good guy, but it's all misunderstandings and confusion."

"'Sa comedy of errors, that," Hux said knowledgeably. "Not nearly as sophisticated as the higher art of opera."

"What a wonderful bias," Ben muttered. "Are you sure you don't want to go lie down?"

"Nah, not sleepy," Hux shrugged. He tossed the cat, who yowled as she landed on the galley counter.

Ben looked over his shoulder at the now-sheepish redhead. "You sure you're okay?"

"…maybe I should check on the hyperdrive," Hux mumbled.

Ben looked back at the cat, to find her nibbling on the spare fish. "Hey! Puss! Stop that!" he yelped.

Hux jumped forward, grabbed the cat around the middle and spun gracefully. "Bad kitty kitty," he scolded gently. "Don't eat that; that's ours." The cat made a sort of mournful squeal, and Hux sighed, scratching her head. "You do like fish, do you? Poor puss puss. No fish for you."

"Just keep her out of the kitchen," Ben muttered.

"I'll show her the stars."

Ben sighed, and concentrated on the cooking. Why did Hux have to get so erratic coming down from an adrenaline high?

* * *

* * *

 

Hux clutched the toilet bowl in the fresher, and waited for his stomach to stop heaving. This was slightly worrying. He hadn't had such a bad reaction to his booze in years. Clearly he hadn't cut the spirits with enough water.

"Hux? Are you okay?"

He groaned. No way could he tell Ben he'd got drunk to the point of vomiting. It would worry him.

(And why did he care? If Ben had been another cadet at the Academy, he would hardly have noticed him. He would have been a scrawny little thing five years below him. Not a threat, and not worth thinking about, unless his murder gave someone the courage to challenge the older boys. Thinking about, _caring_ about a kid so much younger would have been nothing but a liability. It was a distraction; it made it harder to do what's necessary. That's why he'd always avoided friends. He couldn't afford them.)

But he couldn't worry Ben more than necessary, for _whatever_ reason. He needed an excuse…

"Guess we shouldn't've eaten the fish," he said weakly. "I s'pose Millicent will get it after all."

Ben frowned. "'Millicent'?"

"The cat. I named her."

Ben's head tilted as he thought about it. "Why Millicent?"

Hux snickered. "My father had a…a special friend. Well, a couple of them. But Millicent, I used to overhear Father shouting at her for lying there like a dead fish, and our little kitty does so like her fish…"

Ben frowned. "What do you mean, lying there like a dead fish?"

Hux froze. It was so easy to forget that most people hadn't grown up constantly surrounded by death and murder and illicit sexual liaisons, and that generally, twelve was considered too young for such matters. "Never mind," he muttered. "You'll get it eventually."

"Oh." There was a pause, and Hux shivered as another wave of bile forced its way out of his throat. "I had fish, too," Ben continued. "I'm not throwing up."

"Lucky you," Hux groaned. "I'm still feeding it to the cat."

He rested his head on his arms. Seeing Ben hovering over him, looking so concerned, made him feel so guilty and ashamed.

And he couldn't think why.


	18. Personal Problems

**Runaways Chapter 18 Personal Problems**

Hux stirred. His head pounded something awful, his stomach did flip-flops of agony, and there was a noticeable… _sensation_ between his legs. The cause of the sensation was terribly clear; Ben wrapped him in his arms in his sleep. The warm body pressed against him, soft and sweet-smelling and alluring.

Hux hadn't thought he could hate himself any more than he did last night, but he certainly did now.

He had to get away. It wasn't right for him to feel like this. He shouldn't be attracted to Ben – a mere child, far too young. The fact that it was an involuntary response to the flesh pressed against him didn't excuse the wrongness.

He twisted, and prised at the arms around him as gently as possible. He didn't want Ben to see him like this, to make his shame complete. Ben was too good for him, and didn't deserve to know this. Besides, Ben would be so disgusted he'd never come near him again, and Hux…didn't want that.

He shouldn't want Ben so much. That is friendship, and friendship is a weakness. Even if it wasn't, Ben was sweet and nice and had already been hurt too much by his family to deserve having an irredeemably promiscuous, murder-happy soldier trailing after him like some sort of infatuated bodyguard. No, Hux had to master himself, and could start with the cursed stiffness he was currently experiencing.

He was almost free and clear when Ben shifted. "'ux?" he mumbled. "Where going?"

Hux froze. "I'm just off to the fresher," he said, calmly as possible. "I need a shower."

Ben picked his head up and blinked at him sleepily. "You're upset," he accused. "I can feel it. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just…really need the fresher," Hux said desperately. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"It's _not_ fine; I can _feel_ it," Ben argued. "I just want to help you. What can I do?"

"Nothing!" Hux snapped, then calmed himself. "I just need a shower." He shot across the small corridor and locked himself in the fresher before Ben could protest further.

He stripped, switched on the shower, and dealt with it.

* * *

* * *

 

Ben flipped the griddle cakes off the baking tray balanced on the stove and onto his plate. He smeared some fruit butter over them, and tucked into his breakfast.

He heard the shower in the fresher next door shut off, and waited. Hux would probably want his morning caf when he came out, and Ben was worried about him. He could feel a distinct note of shame and discomfort, and earlier there'd been a strange burst of guilty pleasure, and Ben couldn't understand it. He knew Hux had been distressed when he woke, but why wouldn't he accept help?

The adjacent door opened, and Hux emerged, poking his head in the galley, just as Ben had expected. "Caf's on, and there's more batter if you want griddle cakes," Ben said mildly around a mouthful of food.

"Caf'll do," Hux mumbled.

"Are you okay now?"

Hux took a deep breath, and released it in a sigh. "Yes, I'm fine."

Ben nodded, and turned a carefully-constructed mournful face on him. "Why wouldn't you let me help you?"

"Because it's something I have to deal with myself," Hux said curtly.

"But why? I don't understand."

"You're too young-"

"I'm old enough-"

"No, you're not!" Hux yelled. Ben shrank back. He'd really upset Hux; he could feel it in the Force even as Hux pulled his anger back into himself, hiding it behind a wall of self-loathing he kept from his face. It didn't make sense; why was Hux so…so… _disgusted_ at himself?

"No, you're not," Hux whispered. "If you can't work it out, you're too young. Believe me, at your age, ignorance is bliss. Enjoy it while you can."

Ben tilted his head, trying to match the words to the emotions. "Whatever your problem is…you had it when you were my age?"

Hux snorted. "Close enough."

"You feel guilty that it's still a problem, and that you couldn't hide it from me completely?" Ben guessed.

Hux hung his head. "Let's go with that," he whispered. In two strides, he crossed to the drinks machine and busied himself with his cup.

"You're sure there's nothing I can do to help?" Ben asked quietly.

"It'll make it worse," Hux muttered. ʻ _I don't deserve help_ ,ʼ rang from Hux's mind, and Ben had to restrain himself from responding to the thought he should not have heard. "Where are we headed now?" Hux continued a something more approaching his normal tone of voice.

Sensing Hux's desire to change the subject, and echoing it himself, Ben allowed it. "Place called Dugfy. It's in Imperial space."

"Dugfy." Hux picked up a datapad and flicked through to find a few more details. "That place? There's nothing there but a military outpost. Why there?"

Ben tilted his head. He wasn't sure himself; the Force had supplied the coordinates, and he'd obeyed. That was all there was to it. "It just came to me," he replied, somewhat lamely.

Hux hummed, and switched the chip in his datapad. "Potdrum's looking for a sample of the Order's new grenade launcher, preferably multiple units," Hux mused. "Any military data – yeah, not happening – or a Stormtrooper helmet with the newest targeting system. Might be worth our while, if we can recover one of the grenade launchers."

Ben shrugged. "If you say so. I'll check how far out we are."

He headed for the cockpit, and Hux called after him. "Has the cat been fed?"

"Haven't seen her," Ben yelled back, and there was some quiet cursing, followed by Hux yelling a bit more.

"Millicent! Where are you, puss? Milli- Agh! Get off get off get off!"

Ben snickered. Sure, Hux was in pain. He could feel it. But it was more of a prickle than anything else, and the yelp had been mostly surprise. He tapped a few controls in front of him and checked the readouts. "We'll be there in about twenty minutes, so stop playing around!" he called in the general direction of the galley.

"I'm not playing around, I'm being shredded!" Hux complained.

"Whatever; I'm claiming the shower." There should be enough time to clean up and dress before they landed.

So it was that nearly half an hour later Ben guided the shuttle to land in a clearing in the woods nearest the outpost. They'd selected weatherproof trousers and jackets, no obvious weaponry, and the empty rucksack for their haul. The ramp lowered, and-

The Force screamed a warning, just before Hux snarled, and charged someone.

There was the clash of blade on blade, and a hail of stun bolts.

Not again.


	19. Ties of Blood

**Runways Chapter 19 Ties of Blood**

Festus Agrippa had been a year older than Hux. His speciality had been astronavigation, with a secondary focus in ground-based artillery. He'd been one of the top in his year at Arkanis, and rather than challenging his yearmates to assert dominance, he'd chosen to challenge Hux. Hux had been thirteen, and Agrippa fourteen. Agrippa had managed to find out Hux's routine for sneaking back onto the Academy grounds after his secret classes in the city, and laid an ambush.

Hux had got blood in his kit bag, and stained his favourite dancing shoes. It was most vexing.

But Festus had a cousin, Felix Agrippa, who'd graduated shortly after the unfortunate incident. Felix had held a grudge, and Hux had never quite been confident enough to challenge him. It was just a little bit of a relief that he only had to dodge him for three months.

Hux never bothered to keep track of his enemies. There were too many of them. He had no idea Agrippa Senior had been sent to Dugfy.

Agrippa recognized him instantly, and still nursed his grudge. Hux could see it in his face and the hastily drawn knives, and knew he'd have to fight for his life.

Why and how Agrippa and a squad of Stormtroopers came to be waiting for him and Ben to come out of the shuttle, he didn't know, and couldn't afford to care.

Ben better be able to keep the 'troopers occupied. He had to focus on the fight.

* * *

Ben whipped out his lightsaber and spun through Shii-Cho kata three, a particularly effective pattern for deflecting blaster fire. It was all blue stun bolts, which was…a relief, but a little confusing. He could feel murderous intent pouring off Hux and his opponent, but the 'troopers were confused, anxious, and at a loss. Ben was pretty sure they'd only started firing because their officer had already initiated a death duel with Hux.

Ben kept up the kata, switching his grip and style to Shien, the defensive side of Form Five and partner to Djem-So. His grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, had primaried in Djem-So. The bolts were starting to hammer back into the 'troopers, thinning them out, but as Hux had explained several days ago, the stun bolts weren't powerful enough to cleanly overpower the armour. He needed to end this faster, and pull Hux's opponent off him.

He continued swinging his gold 'saber in one hand, simultaneously calling a blaster to his other hand. He caught it, finding it a little heavier than he thought, and started firing.

If there were any katas for deflecting blaster fire while shooting yourself, Ben didn't know them. Which was a pity; he'd nearly deflected a bolt into himself.

Then there was only one 'trooper left, with a commander's pauldron. He – she? – dropped his blaster and raised his hands. Ben paused to send a probe out towards Hux, and recoiled slightly from a vicious, single-minded bloodlust – from both fighters.

Ben swung his stolen blaster to point at the surrendered 'trooper. "How did you know to find us?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

"We were ordered here to escort you to base," the 'trooper reported. "I don't know how the captain knew you'd be here, or why he attacked your associate. We weren't warned there would be two of you. We were just ordered to bring you in unharmed."

There was a cry of pain, and a flash of triumph. Ben whirled around to check on Hux, crying his name as he did so. He was standing about over his fallen opponent, bloody knives in hand, a terrifying but victorious grin on his face. There was still a strong sense of bloodlust, but now Ben could sense the undercurrent of desperate fear.

"We have to get out of here," Hux snarled. "Now."

There was no rhyme or reason to Hux's intense feeling of urgency to leave, but Ben nodded. He fired two stun bolts at his 'trooper prisoner. "Shall I grab the helmet for the targeting system?" he asked.

"Yeah; why not?"

Hux had already retreated into the shuttle.

Ben sent a quick probe towards the fallen captain. There was no life presence.

* * *

Hux selected an uninhabited planet in the unclaimed territories, and tapped the co-ordinates into the navicomputer. Khegjisug II was very nondescript, and should be a safe bolthole to plan their next move.

Soft footsteps, and Ben entered the cockpit. "Hux? Are you alright?"

"Fine," Hux replied curtly. He checked over the engine systems, but left take-off for Ben.

The younger boy took the pilot's seat, and dropped the orange furball into Hux's lap. "Got a destination?" Hux grunted, and Ben started hitting controls. They stayed silent as the shuttle rose, left orbit, and jumped to hyperspace. Ben switched over to autopilot, and turned to Hux. "You might be okay, but you're not fine," he said bluntly. "I get that you don't want to talk about it, but is there something I should know?"

Hux focused on the cat in his lap. He didn't want to say anything, but Ben deserved a little explanation. "The officer there went to Arkanis. His cousin tried to kill me, and he took exception to it."

"Someone tried to kill you?!" Ben gasped. "At your _Academy_?!"

"It's just something that happens," Hux said. This was why he didn't want to talk about it. "It's just jockeying for position, and sometimes it gets a bit excessive. The professors would stop us if it went too far."

 _Technically_ true; but they'd have had to have started attacking professors or damaging First Order property to reach that point. But Ben was nodding. "And attempted murder doesn't count as 'too far'?" he asked.

Hux hesitated. He didn't want to say he'd killed the cousin or anything, but… "That boy didn't graduate," he said, evading the question. "Can we please not talk about this?"

Ben nodded, looking sad. "Yeah," he answered. "It's all over now, isn't it? You and me against the galaxy."

Hux smiled thinly. It had become their litany, it seemed. "You and me."


	20. Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Nightmare

**Runaways Chapter 20 Sweet Dream, Beautiful Nightmare**

Ben whined, and tossed in his bunk. He wrapped his arms tighter around the velvet-wrapped helmet, but didn't wake.

" _Commandant Hux."_

" _Supreme Leader."_

" _Commandant, where is your son?"_

"… _I'm not certain. He has not been seen for some days. I do have an alert out for him-"_

" _What is he doing with my apprentice?"_

" _Your apprentice, Supreme Leader?"_

" _I sent a squad to retrieve my apprentice, and your son caused such difficulty that he was lost to me."_

" _My sincerest apologies, but I don't believe I've ever met your apprentice, nor has my son."_

" _Cadet Hux has been seen in the company of my apprentice multiple times. According to reports, one of your men's attempts to retrieve your son nearly injured my apprentice."_

" _Ah…would your apprentice be a dark haired boy in his early teens?"_

" _Yes; what of it?"_

" _I apologise profusely, Supreme Leader. I did see him, but I did not know who he was. My son ran off with him on a whim, or so I believed. I don't think it was planned. Do you know if your apprentice has ever been to Arkanis?"_

" _He has not…you will have your orders modified. The boy is not to be harmed, and his retrieval is highest priority. Your wayward child is insignificant."_

" _With respect, Supreme Leader, I believe you may be underestimating my son. He has the best grades ever seen in my Academy, has broken a dozen records for marksmanship and physical prowess, and has developed a thesis for a weapon that may eclipse even the Death Star. He is also working on a secondary thesis regarding potential improvements to the Stormtrooper program. I have been trying to shape him to be your next great military leader._

" _So the rumours regarding his conduct are untrue?"_

" _I can't be certain what rumours have reached you, but he has always been perfectly behaved in class."_

" _And outside of his classes?"_

"… _I am assured his conduct on duty will always be impeccable."_

" _Then, should he be retrieved, he will be delivered to your custody, but my apprentice must be the priority."_

" _Of course, Supreme Leader. I shall have your orders given immediately."_

" _You shall. And be assured, if my apprentice is in anything less than perfect condition, you shall be held fully responsible."_

" _I understand."_

" _Dismissed."_

Ben moaned and tossed. Bolts of pain echoed through his head, resonating even as he slept. The dream faded, and he lapsed gratefully into deeper unconsciousness.

* * *

* * *

 

Hux sat on the edge of the bed, watching Ben's uneasy sleep. The little distressed mewls had drawn him from the galley, where he'd been nursing a drink. This one was much more palatable. Perhaps because he'd used a little less spirits, perhaps because he'd added it to his caf rather than cutting it with water. Intoxication settled over him in a very pleasant haze, making the stress of their recent stop float away, and dulling the throb of a few gashes he hadn't bothered Ben with.

Ben was hugging that black bag of his, a bulky thing Hux had yet to see the contents of. It had the right sort of shape and size to be a human head, but that wasn't Ben's style. But Hux wouldn't look inside unless Ben said he could.

…Hang on, human head? Bit of a maudlin thought.

Must be because of the Agrippa cousins. Sure he'd killed Felix cleanly just now, but Festus…he'd sliced the top of Festus' head off, and spilled his brains across the ground. Not one of his prouder moments.

Hopefully Ben wouldn't find out about that. Hux _really_ wanted to leave the slaughter of his Academy years behind him. Something about Ben made him want to be more normal. Which would be no killing, no sleeping with whoever would spread their legs, no getting high on drink and drugs. Well, he was pretty sure he could quit two of the three, and Ben hadn't noticed him getting high before.

Ben cried out again, shivered all over, and subsided, going limp. Hux drained his caf, ruffled his young friend's hair, and pulled the blanket up to his neck. He stood, and headed for the galley, nearly stumbling as an unexpected bundle of orange fluff wrapped itself around one ankle. He bent, picked up Millicent, and returned to Ben. He deposited his pet on the sleeping preteen, and made another attempt at leaving.

He dumped his cup on the galley counter, and set the drinks machine to prepare another caf, slopping a small measure of spirits into the cup while he waited. When done, the drink was hot and burned as it went down.

The shuttle was quiet, nothing but a rumble from the engines, and the padding of Hux's feet as he meandered into the hold. The hold had benches that could be raised for troop transport, or left down for cargo. There was one bench raised at the edge of the room, but most of the hold was clear. Hux set down his cup and dropped down next to it. He pulled off his boots and socks, then started stretching.

He hadn't had a chance to go through his routines in a week or two. He took a stance, and hummed a gentle tune, raised himself up, and started to dance.


	21. More Than Caf

**Runaways Chapter 21 More Than Caf**

Ben woke up curled around his grandfather's velvet-wrapped helmet and surrounded by a deeply-asleep ex-cadet. His head throbbed, and he knew he'd had a dream-vision, but he couldn't remember it at all. He might have tried a memory trick, but not while a podrace went on in his frontal lobe.

He twitched, and Hux mumbled in his sleep, tightening his grip. Ben sighed to himself, and gently twisted, easing himself out of the redhead's hold as best he could without waking him. Still absent-mindedly hugging the helmet, he stumbled to the fresher, pulled a jar of mild pain-killers out of one of the medkits, and started hunting down breakfast.

Hux had left an empty caf pod in the drinks machine, but there was still half a jug of griddle cake batter in the cooler. They didn't have an actual griddle, so Ben had been improvising with a baking tray balanced on one of the stove rings. Uncle Chewie – _Solo's Wookiee_ – would have had a stern howl with him about taking risks with his equipment and courting burns, but he did what he could with what he had. Maybe he could talk Hux into stopping off at a kitchen store sometime.

Although, Hux certainly acted like he'd be perfectly happy eating nothing but field rations his entire life. That was what he was used to, he had said. Rations were easiest to prepare for a whole school of children. It felt wrong, though. At the Jedi Temple, there was proper food. Maybe not as nice as some of the meals he'd get at home – _at his parents' house_ – but wholesome and flavourful and much better than the bland protein bars and carb pouches. Vitamin pills, however, weren't uncommon, especially for young Jedi of species with special requirements that couldn't be easily catered for in the masses' diet.

Maybe he'd cook up a few extra griddle cakes this morning. He had the batter and the fruit butter, and he didn't think he'd ever actually seen Hux have more than a cup of caf for breakfast.

The drinks machine beeped. It had finished its purge cycle and was ready to make his tea.

He was just starting to eat when Hux stumbled in, went straight for the drinks machine, and didn't bother to purge the tea residue before starting on his caf.

"Griddle cakes?" Ben offered. "I can cook some up no problem. Or there's rations, I suppose."

"Not hungry," Hux grunted. "This'll do."

Ben sighed. "Hux, you only consistently eat one meal a day. I don't think you've _ever_ eaten breakfast, and half the time you skip lunch."

"I don't have much of an appetite," Hux evaded.

"I can feel your bones when we're sleeping together," Ben protested.

"It's just because I have an active lifestyle."

"That can't be healthy."

"Ben, please. I'm fine. Trust me."

Ben sighed. "I'm worried about you."

Hux softened from his tense, defensive posture. "You don't have to be. I know what I'm up to. But what about you? You seemed to be having a really bad nightmare last night."

Ben sighed and shrugged. "It happens sometimes, but I never remember anything when I wake up. I don't know where they come from or how to stop them, but I've taken some painkillers for the headache."

Hux tilted his head. "Not the morphates?"

"No, salicylates," Ben answered. That was what he'd always been given for headaches before, even when he was just six years old and was crying from the pain.

Hux nodded. "Yeah, that's best. You know not to take-"

"More than two every six hours, and no more than six every twenty-four hours," Ben finished. "I know, I know." He paused, looking at his plate. "You want to try one of these?" He speared a piece of griddle cake that had managed to avoid being smeared with fruit butter and offered it to Hux.

Hux looked like he was going to refuse, then changed his mind and neatly bit the mouthful off the fork. He chewed and swallowed. "Not bad."

Ben grinned. He was about to offer to cook up another batch when a warble came over the ship's internal comms. "We must be just about there," Ben said. He stuffed the last cake in his mouth, grabbed his tea and hurried into the cockpit, Hux just behind.

"It's mostly ocean and rocky islands," Hux mused, taking the co-pilot's seat. "Put us down on one of the islands near the equator; maybe we can go for a swim."

"Picnic lunch," Ben smirked. "Let me guess, you've never had one before."

"Survival training not count?" Hux joked back. "I'm just a little worried we might lose Millicent."

Ben considered the issue. "I could mind-trick her?" he offered.

"You can do that?"

"I think so. She's an animal, therefore she has a weak mind." He hummed to himself. "It would be fairly delicate, I think. Nice little challenge."

"Let's feed her before you start," Hux smirked.

"Yeah…just…let me land…"

Ben brought the shuttle into the atmosphere, and Hux started running scans and called out directions for a promising island. Ben circled it, selected a likely plateau, and brought them down. Hux leaned forward, peering out the windscreen. "Is that a beach?"

Ben grinned. "Yes. Yes it is. And note how it isn't raining."

Hux kept staring. "An actual beach."

"With actual sun," Ben confirmed. "I've been to beaches before. You'll like it. A nice swim and lounging in the sun while you dry off…one of the best ways I know to relax."

"And a picnic lunch?" Hux asked.

"I can make some traditional picnic foods before we go," Ben offered.

"…Yeah. Let's try that." Hux finally rose, and drained his cup. "An actual beach. I'm feel like I having some sort of posh holiday."

Ben laughed. This was so much better than contemplating his lost dream.


	22. Unexpected Holiday

**Runaways Chapter 22 Unexpected Holiday**

There were two types of shower at Arkanis Academy. There were small cramped ones attached to the dorm freshers, nominally private in that they had doors that supposedly could be bolted from the inside even if everyone knew how to open them from the outside. And there were communal showers by the back entrance to the main building, with small lockers to keep a spare uniform, a towel and a laundry bag. The cadets were expected to keep their lockers stocked at all times in order to avoid trekking muddy water all over the place. It was considered acceptable to go through two uniforms every day, and one of the first things every cadet learnt was to keep on top of the laundry.

So it was normal to see each other in the shower. This gave rise to two different approaches: a complete lack of body shame, or customarily wearing thin undershirts and shorts to stay decent while hosing off the mud. It was about a fifty-fifty split.

Hux had been one of the no-shame faction. He had decent muscles, no excess fat, and he was proud of his scars. That changed the first time he was observed in the shower at the fitness centre, and had a younger kid scream in his ear at the sight of a still-healing scar. The thin coverings hid most of his marks and it was easier to just wear them all the time. He'd heard whispers at the Academy, speculating about embarrassing injuries or moles, or if he was playing coy with potential lovers, but he didn't care. He preferred fitting in with the other dance students, and Zander Ardeen didn't have a dozen scars.

When he'd gone shopping after meeting Ben, he'd made sure to get a few spare sets of undershirts and shorts. Keeping his marks hidden had become second nature by then.

Now he was especially thankful for that piece of foresight as he watched Ben casually strip down to his briefs and run into the ocean. He followed suit, removing his boots and shirt and trousers until he was left in just the underclothes, wading into the water.

It was cold but rather than being a nasty shock, it was a refreshing counterpoint to the hot sun above. He ducked, dunking his head underwater and coming up. It was wonderful.

Ben sculled over, floating even in the shallows. "Y'know, you can take that off in front of me," he commented, gesturing to Hux's torso.

Hux huffed and leant back, letting the water support him. "Don't really want to risk sunburn."

"Oh." Ben ducked under, and reappeared an impressive distance away a moment later. "My maternal grandfather was from a long line of desert-dwellers. You could say his people bred for sun resistance; people who burnt readily didn't last long enough to have kids."

Hux thought back to his biology studies. "Sounds like micro-evolution," he offered. "I can't think of any examples of that in my lineage."

"Yeah, well." Ben flipped and did another long underwater swim. "My father's a spacer; you probably got that from Potdrum. Smuggling, mostly."

Hux twirled, cooling his front in the water before returning to floating on his back. "Yeah, I got that."

Ben's mother, the daughter of the desert-dweller, must have been the inquisitor. Probably tall, and pale, aloof and cruel. Maybe had an ill-advised fling with the smuggler who gave her a ride to safety when the Imperials went into exile. Ben clearly took after his father. Hux couldn't imagine an inquisitor being particularly maternal. She probably kept the smuggler around as a general dogsbody and babysitter.

There was a splash, and suddenly it was the snow fight on Hoth all over again.

* * *

* * *

 

"Hux, how'd you get that scar?"

"Hmm?" Hux mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"The one on your lower right leg."

"Oh. That one." _That_ one dated from the time there was that craze for landmines, but Ben didn't like hearing about the cadets trying to kill each other. "We have a minefield for training purposes. Got a little too close one time."

"Shrapnel?"

"Mm."

They'd put out towels, and were basking in the sun, drying off the salt water. Hux kept feeling like he ought to be doing things, but really he was fine. A bit antsy with his knives next to him rather than strapped to his forearms, but this was peaceful. Millicent had curled up on his stomach, a fluffy, purring bundle of warmth.

"Hux…what do we do now?"

Hux opened his eyes and looked over at Ben, who'd sat up and started tossing his lightsaber between his hands. "Well, I suppose in an hour or so we ought to eat that picnic lunch your prepared."

"But…what then?" The younger teen was starting to curl in on himself in nervousness. "We've been chased by Stormtroopers whenever we went to an Imperial planet, and we got chased by bounty hunters when we went into Hutt space."

"We have three options," Hux mused. He closed his eyes and thought, one hand absently stroking the cat. "We could take our chances in Imperial or Hutt territories, we could just cruise the space lanes indefinitely, or…we could try the Republic."

"The Republic?!" Ben spluttered.

Hux considered. It was…distasteful, but on reflection… "It'll be safer. They're a lot less likely to shoot on sight if we're identified."

"But you're an Imperial cadet, and I'm…well… _me_."

"We're also children," Hux said forcefully. And that was true. Hux's youth might not save him; he was already seventeen and had been training for over a decade, but Ben was just a boy. Yes, he'd be in trouble if he was identified as an inquisitor-in-training, but he was only twelve. "The Republic's too soft-hearted to kill children."

"I don't _like_ it," Ben protested.

"Nor do I," Hux admitted. "But I think it's our best option."

The criminal element of Hutt space would use them at best, attack them at worst. The Imperials would have him executed as a traitor and do who knows what to Ben. The Republic would have him executed as an enemy combatant, but would spare Ben.

He was doomed, but Ben would be safe.


	23. Plans

**Runaways Chapter 23 Plans**

Ben had been in the public eye pretty much since he was born. This was to be expected. He was the son of two war heroes, one of whom was the Princess of the Aderaani Diaspora. Leia might have had strong ideas regarding privacy and giving veterans space, but as the Senator for New Alderaan (formerly Yavin 4) there was only so much she could do to protect him from the press. Luke had had a little more luck; he was the public face of the New Jedi Order, and insisted his Padawans and Initiates be given privacy. He'd banned the press from entering the Temple or using covert means to get anything on his charges. All contact had to go through him. So since Ben had begun his Initiative, he'd been out of the public eye.

So his holo was a little out of date, but still recognizable. Anyone who paid much attention to the Republic's NewsNet was bound to know who he was. And as soon as he was sighted and identified, his parents would be alerted to his presence, and he'd be dragged home, probably with a stern lecture about being a disappointment and disgracing the family image. Leia, Han and Luke may not care about _him_ , but they wouldn't let him run around threatening their reputations. Not, it would be better if they never heard of him again.

But nowhere seemed safe. The Imperials attacked them, bounty hunters attacked them, and they only seemed safe on uninhabited planets. And as for Hux, he’d been hurt at that Imperial outpost, badly shaken on Nar Utta, and forced to kill on Dugfy. And Hux didn't _need_ to be with him. He didn't _need_ to run away from his father. He could go back to his Academy if he wanted. It was Ben's fault he was stuck running from everyone. He deserved the safer option.

He was right. The Republic wouldn't shoot on sight. Even if they were caught, they wouldn't be hurt.

Hux appeared to be dozing, one hand propping his head up slightly while the other toyed with Millicent's ears. Ben hadn't seen him so restful before, and couldn't resist reaching out a little tendril of Force sense, hoping to feel that peace.

Instead, there was turmoil. It was pushed back by a steely resolve, but it was still there. A sort of desperation, a sense of despair, even regret. Hux seemed to be consciously masking it in determination. He'd decided the Republic was the best course of action, and was making that decision take over.

But Ben could still feel the despair, desperation and regret.

"Hux?" he said hesitantly.

"Mm?" He was still giving off the impression of complete relaxation.

"Do you want to go back home? 'Cause I'm sure I can cope…"

Hux's eyes snapped open. He stopped stroking the cat, tensed up and gave off a wave of pain before damping it down. "Nah," he dismissed. "I'm having a lot of fun and, y'know, Father would be a nightmare."

"You don't want to go back to the Academy?"

Another flair of pain. "Not now I've seen what the galaxy has to offer."

"Being shot at?"

Hux barked a laugh. "What d'you think the military's for? Shooting and being shot at."

"Fine, fine." Ben didn't know if he could cope with another of the bolts of pain Hux was projecting. "I'm a little worried about going into Republic territory."

Apprehension. "It's our best chance-" And not _quite_ true; just mostly.

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "I'm worried I might be recognized."

There was a brief burst of confusion, but Hux quickly accepted the revelation. "Okay. So. You need a disguise."

Ben frowned. "What do you have in mind?"

Hux shifted Millicent and sat up. "We don't have the resources to do anything with your eyes, so they'll have to stay as they are," he mused. "Your hair. Can you do anything with it?"

"Erm…" Ben considered everything he knew of the Force and how it flowed through all living things. "I think I can stimulate the follicles and make it grow."

"Good; and if we braid it into some sort of eye-catching design it'll draw attention away from your nose and bone structure," Hux continued. "If we can find a large quantity of rust, I think I can improvise a sort of dye to make you a redhead. And if we could colour our skin…"

"One of the seasonings can do that," Ben offered. "If we dissolve it, maybe in that spirits, then paint it on all exposed skin, it should make us look more yellow."

"That certainly sounds plausible," Hux nodded. "If we match, it'll be easier to pass as cousins. Just try to remember the name this time."

"Ren Ardeen," Ben said, rolling his eyes. "I'll remember. Sorry."

Hux smiled. "It'll be fine. If we stick to the Imperial border, we can flit across if we need to escape. But it might be a good idea if we have packs ready so we can run if we need to."

Ben tilted his head. "You mean…abandon the shuttle?"

Hux mirrored the gesture. "Well, if we get separated from the shuttle we might need to camp out for a bit before we can return to it. We've got that tent and bedroll in my outdoors survival kit, so if you take the pack we bought, we should be able to cope in the wild for a few weeks if necessary."

Ben nodded slowly. There were still a lot of ifs and buts, but this seemed the best option. Unless they wanted to spend the rest of their lives in the shuttle cruising the space lanes and going mad from cabin fever. "We'll try that then." His stomach gurgled, and he stood up. "Shall I fetch lunch?"

Hux stood up and put down the cat, who curled up where he'd been sitting to continue her snooze. "For once, I actually feel hungry," he said. "Yeah, let's eat."


	24. Limitations

**Runaways Chapter 24 Limitations**

Hux was about five months short of graduation. He'd aced every class in his Academy career, absolutely smashed the marksmanship-under-pressure records, and not only finished the most ground-breaking thesis the Academy had ever seen, he was three-quarters of the way through a second which promised to be just as brilliant. He was likely to get immediately sent to his short stint of requisite time in combat, before moving into higher command and beginning his ascent to being the premier military leader in the First Order. Most of his surviving classmates would be rotated around shipboard duty before being given the chance to prove themselves in battle.

He'd had such a glowing future, and he'd thrown it all away – for what? A moment's madness at the sight of a scrawny kid? He couldn't return to Arkanis. The penalty for desertion had always been death. If he was lucky he might be given the chance to apologise to his father for disgracing the family name before his execution – which may well be at Commandant Hux's hand; what joy.

The Republic were his enemies. There wasn't _quite_ a state of war between them, but there might as well be. Republic military caught in Imperial space were captured, interrogated and executed, unless they were shot on sight. This close to graduation, Hux couldn't expect his treatment to be any different.

He wasn't entirely sure what they'd done to attract the ire of the Hutt criminal underworld, other than be linked to a supposedly notoriously unreliable smuggler.

But all told, this left Hux's options…sparse. He had nothing to look forward to now but running from planet to planet to pick up supplies, maybe running retrieval for Potdrum who at least seemed willing to deal with them, and chances were an early death at the end of someone's blaster.

But he had Ben. Sweet, innocent Ben, who cried himself to sleep most nights, couldn't stand up for himself in the face of a fight he could flee from, who could cook and fly a shuttle, wave a lightsaber and use the Force, but couldn't plan ahead well enough to survive long on the run. Ben, who would be a meaningless collateral casualty to the First Order, a source of hate to the underworld, but just maybe a potentially rehabilitate-able victim to the Republic.

All Hux could do now was try to stay alive as long as possible, and give Ben the best chance he could. He was doomed, but Ben might not be.

This realization was more than a little jarring compared to the balmy peace of the beach where it came to him.

For their picnic lunch, Ben had prepared a number of griddle cakes, then toasted them in the oven. There were chunks of some sort of fermented milk, and finely sliced and fried meat, and there was a sort of salad from boiled pulses and vegetables. He'd even thought to bring out a small dish of fish sticks for Millicent.

Hux volunteered to make their tea and caf, and while Ben was busy with the food, added a slug of spirits to his beverage. Not enough to intoxicate, but enough to take the edge off. He'd spent the last nine years finding ways to take the edge off, and he really needed it now.

* * *

* * *

 

"D'you think there's shellfish we could fish out of the ocean?" Ben asked.

Hux was once again lounging on his towel in the sun, this time on his front, picking at the remains of his lunch. "My knowledge of extra-terrestrial ocean fauna is limited, but I would guess, yes," he declared. "But I have no way of knowing if they are safe to eat, and I do not wish to spend all night throwing up. Again."

Ben snickered. Hux's emotional aura had settled down a lot now. It seemed hashing out a rough plan for disguising themselves, and then having a slightly more fun lunch than usual, had calmed him, and he no longer seemed so despairing. "We could always feed them to Millicent."

Hux scoffed. "Do you want to poison the poor thing?" Ben chuckled softly, and felt a warm burble of contentment from his friend. The older boy stacked his griddle cake with cheese and meat, and took a large bite. "This really isn't too bad. Maybe I should try these griddle cakes for breakfast."

"Told you so," Ben smirked.

"Hmm." Hux polished off the last of his stack, and held his hand out to Millicent, who sniffed it and licked off the grease from the meat. "Ben…this is another one of those questions you don't have to answer…"

Ben tensed. "Ask away."

"Why are you so concerned about being recognized?" Ben felt a disbelieving sort of noise come from his throat, and Hux quickly clarified. "I mean, why do think you will be identified? Is it because of the…unpleasantness on Nar Utta?"

Ben sighed. Hux didn't know his…parentage…and he'd rather keep it that way. "That's something I'd rather not discuss."

"Fair enough." Ben could tell Hux's curiosity hadn't abated – perhaps even increased – but there was also acceptance. Ben was learning that when reading Hux's emotions, the strongest was not always dominant. Hux's control was sufficient for him to force a lesser emotion to override a stronger one. It was quite impressive.

"D'you wanna talk about your studies at your Academy?" Ben asked, trying to change the subject. "I mean, like you said, don't have to answer…"

"Some bits of it I don't want to talk about," Hux agreed. "We're trained to be the future leaders of the First Order. Yes, we're the military, but it's expected that a number of us will leave the Fleet and Troop for civilian government. There's only so many positions in the High Command, after all. So we're taught politics and economics and statecraft in addition to strategy and weaponry and engineering and such. You may be interested to know that there is a policy that all officers must acquit themselves in combat before being promoted beyond First Lieutenant. But there's only so many places where you'd be likely to be in battle."

"Doesn't that mean there's a lot of low-ranking officers that can't be promoted without a fight?" Ben asked curiously.

Hux laughed hollowly. "Not as many as you'd think. What's in this pulse salad again?"


	25. Burn

**Runaways Chapter 25 Burn**

"Ow," Hux whimpered. He'd never thought he'd hear himself whining, but he hadn't imagined such a sensation existing either. "Make it stop."

"We don't have the right cream," Ben said helplessly. "I mean, there's normal burn cream like we put on your blaster burn, but that's more potent than necessary, and it wouldn't go nearly far enough."

Hux whimpered again. He was red pretty much all over – his quip about avoiding sunburn had proved true. Ben, lucky thing, had tanned everywhere except the back of his neck and the tips of his nose and ears. "Is there nothing we can do?"

Ben bit his lip. "We could try soaking bandages in water and wrapping them around you?" he offered. "We can chill the water for a bit first. That should offer you some relief. And we'll have to stop off at the nearest outpost."

Hux nearly whined. He didn't want to go anywhere near some place that might have sun – and he couldn't even bear the touch of fabric against his torched skin. He was still in his underclothes, and he'd even rolled up the hems a little. He was even burnt between his toes. Going to bed would be a nightmare. "Please do it," he begged.

Ben gave him an almost pitying look, and darted towards the fresher. He emerged a moment later with the medkit. "Want some painkillers while I sort out the bandages?"

Hux nodded, and looked at the options. There was the salicylate Ben took for his post-nightmare headache, an anti-inflammatory, and the morphate that was really too strong to be a standard in such kits, but Hux loved. No choice, really. He was going to be singing again.

* * *

Ben was worried about Hux. Earlier that day he'd worried that Hux regretted leaving his home, but with the older boy choosing to stick by him, there really wasn't anything he could do about that. But this was something he could help with.

And really, they should have expected it. Hux was so fair-skinned, and grew up being constantly rained on. Of course he was going to burn at the slightest touch of sun. Ben was now very glad of his desert-dweller genes.

Hux wouldn't come to bed. Instead he was lounging on the bench on the hold, wrapped the sheets from the spare bunk, which were drenched in more chilled water. The painkillers seemed to be doing their job – Ben couldn't sense much more than a distinct sense of lingering discomfort. He sat down on the floor next to the miserable cadet. "I really don't mind a bit of damp, or there's the spare bunk," he suggested.

Hux grunted, and the sopping sheet twitched back from his face. The distinctly grumpy glower would have been amusing, were it not for the raw-looking burns over his entire face. "I prefer the metal."

Ben winced. "I, erm, looked up a few things," he said. "This all should be fine, um, unless it starts blistering, uh, at which point we should seek professional medical attention, and it might take a day…or two…for the full…extent of the burn to show."

Hux looked at him incredulously. "It could get _worse_?!"

"It might. Sorry." Ben glanced down at the datapad he'd brought up medkit advice chip on. "Er, we can't use ice, because…that might give you frostbite? Something like that. There's moisturizing creams we should use, avoid more sun exposure, breathable fabrics only, anti-inflammatories for the pain but I guess you already worked that one out…" He looked back up at Hux. "I've set course for the nearest planetoid with a decent sized settlement, but it'll take half a day to get there. Hopefully by then we'll have seen if there are any signs of your, uh, condition getting worse."

Hux moaned, and pulled the sheet back over his face. "Just make it stop."

Ben sighed. He wanted to hug Hux, pat his shoulder and reassure him it would be alright, but physical contact was the _last_ thing he needed right now.

There was a mew from further into the ship. "Sounds like Millicent wants her dinner," Ben said to the uncommunicative mound of wet sheet. "I can fix you something while I'm at it, if you like. I fancy curry, but I can leave some meat and grain unseasoned for you."

"Please," came the muffled voice. "'N iced caf?"

Ben chuckled. "As long as the ice stays in the caf," he joked.

Hux huffed what was probably an assent, and Ben made for the kitchen. Behind him, it sounded like Hux had started humming a dirge.

* * *

Ben was fairly sure Hux had only emerged from his cocoon to use the fresher and re-soak his sheets. There was still no blistering; the burns seemed no better, but no worse either, but Hux hadn't slept much from sheer discomfort. He'd occupied himself reading up on the settlement Ben was going to visit.

"Ieghi is neutral; neither Republic or Imperial but not ruled by the gangsters," he reported. "Best take the Hutt money as well as my digital wallet. Get a new one, and have half my credits exchanged for Republic and put on the second. My code's 9916. Get the sunburn lotion, and plenty of sun protection cream. See if you can get some red hair colouring while you're at it, and some pins or ties or something if you want to do something with your hair."

"Sir yes sir," Ben smirked.

Hux huffed. "Just get the stuff. I'm in pain here."

Ben tilted his head. "Your arms might hurt less if you took the knives off."

"I'll throw them at you."

"I'm going, I'm going."


	26. Time to Heal

**Runaways Chapter 26 Time to Heal**

Ben keyed in the code to drop the boarding ramp and shifted his duffle bag on his shoulder. He'd have been able to get more bottles of suncream if he'd taken the backpack, but he wasn't sure his burnt neck could have taken it. He was just glad he wasn't in as much pain as Hux.

The ramp had been locked, even though Hux was still aboard. This had made Ben nervous, but Hux reminded him there was little chance he'd want to brave even the mild autumn sun of Ieghi, and if anyone wanted to steal the shuttle there was little Hux could do to dissuade them.

Although, Hux may have been exaggerating his incapacity somewhat, considering his heap of wet sheets had the sniper rifle sticking out of it and pointed in the direction of the door.

"Woah! I come in peace," Ben joked, showing his hands.

Hux lifted his head and pulled the sheet off it. He still looked pretty dreadful, red and raw and dripping water looking like sweat as it flattened his hair to his scalp. But he wasn't beyond moving; he'd flipped from his back to his front while Ben was out. And Millicent had decided to perch on his back, which luckily had been protected from the sun by his undershirt.

"Please, for the love of _anything_ , tell me you got the cream," Hux practically begged.

Ben dropped the duffle and pulled out a bottle. "Right here."

Hux pushed himself up and almost tripped over the sheets pooling around his feet in his haste for relief from his burns. Ben found himself laughing softly, and Hux's face got even redder in a, frankly, adorable blush.

"Let me," Ben offered, shucking his jacket before squirting a generous dollop of cream onto his hand. "Arms out."

Hux stuck his arms out, and moaned in relief as Ben started slathering the cream over them. "You have no idea how good that feels."

Hux's mind was practically purring, so Ben reckoned he had pretty good idea, but he wasn't sure Hux would appreciate that. "You can do my neck for me when I'm done, then," he said instead.

Hux smiled, and it was beautiful, despite the redness and the twinge of pain the action provoked. "I'll even do your nose and ears."

Ben chuckled at that, and kept rubbing the lotion into his friend's skin. Then he noticed something, and frowned. "Hux? These scars here – the thin ones by your elbow – how did you get them?"

"My old knife sheaths weren't terribly good," Hux said pragmatically. "You've seen the way I flick them about. I had to make my current ones specially to facilitate that without slicing my own arms."

Ben tilted his head. The knives in question were lying on the floor next to where Hux had been lounging on the bench. "But…they're not long enough."

"Yes, well. My arms used to be shorter." Hux pulled away slightly, and Ben flushed to realise he'd been stroking the scars. "Would you mind doing my face next?"

"Oh, yeah." Ben squirted another dollop of cream onto his palm and started daubing it on Hux's cheekbones.

"Was there any trouble?" Hux asked.

"Don't talk while I'm doing your face," Ben grumbled. "No. The pharmacy attendant was curious as to why someone my age was shopping on his own, but I said my Mom was burned and couldn't come out herself. Which makes you my mother in this scenario. Sorry. And the guy at the currency exchange is convinced I nicked my parent's wallet and am planning on running away, but he didn't say anything, which is good because I honestly couldn't come up with anything that wasn't either stupidly ridiculous or too close to the truth for comfort." He stopped painting Hux's face with cream and admired his handiwork. He hadn't been able to resist the urge to add decorative swirls and dots here and there, and it looked quite amusing on Hux's face. "I don't suppose you have a holocamera? Turn around; I can't reach the back of your neck."

Hux obligingly turned. "No. Why?"

"Look in the mirror when I'm done. And don't touch your face."

"What? Why?" Hux's had automatically went to his face, and Ben slapped it away before it could mess up the patterns. "What have you done?"

"Nothing bad, I promise." Ben finished with Hux's neck and knelt to do his legs. His shins had a light dusting of red orange hair, that would probably show up better if the skin wasn't the colour of a sundried tomato. The shrapnel scars were still a pale pink that previously showed up dark, but were now the lighter part of the calf. Hux quivered, probably a little ticklish, but held still until Ben was finished.

"Thanks," Hux mumbled. "Um. I'll do you now."

Ben held out the bottle, and Hux took it. His hands were soft and slightly hesitant as they dabbed the cream on the tips of his nose and ears, before turning him to do the back of his neck. "Mm, that's nice. Thanks, Hux."

"My skin no longer feels like it's on fire. I think I might just be in a good mood," Hux said lightly.

Ben chuckled. "So, seeing as you're in a good mood, do we want to plan our next move?"

"Sounds good," Hux nodded. He headed for the cockpit, then paused and ducked into the fresher. "Ben!"

Ben snickered. He'd seen the patterns on his face.

Hux emerged, rubbing at his cheeks to smooth away the patterns. "Anywhere near the edge of the Republic you want to visit? I don't think we should land and explore for a few days at least; I'd rather let my skin heal, if you don't mind."

"That would be best," Ben agreed. "We'd have to check the charts, but…I'd quite like to go to Endor."

Hux sat down in his copilot's seat, chivvied Millicent off the console she'd picked as her new sleeping spot, and pulled up the star chart. "Looks plausible," he mused. "We might want to take a somewhat roundabout route, and I'd like to have an escape route back into Imperial space ready just in case, but…yeah. Endor."

Ben smiled. It had been a secret ambition of his for quite some time to visit his grandfather Vader's cremation site. Looked like he'd be achieving it after all.


	27. Exercises

**Runaways Chapter 27 Exercises**

There wasn't nearly enough reading material aboard the shuttle. Hux leaned back in his co-pilot seat as he flicked through the options. The shuttle's manual, the star chart and encyclopaedia, Potdrum's list or the medical leaflet. Hmm. Perhaps he could match the list to the star chart's encyclopaedia, give them a few ideas on where to head to next. If it was safe to return to Nar Utta, which it might not be. People tended to get antsy at people killing other people.

He propped his feet up on the pilot's seat. He'd managed to burn the soles, and even half-healed it hurt to put his weight on them for too long. The healing process was proceeding nicely, and now the ruined layers of skin were peeling off.

There was a thump from the hold, and Hux glanced up. Ben had been getting twitchy, and said something about exercises, but a thump wasn't good. Abandoning his datapad, he headed back.

Ben was pushing himself to his feet, shaking his head as though to dispel stars. "Ow," he mumbled to himself. "Let's try that again."

Ben took a stance, unlit saber raised. He moved through a series of motions, as though fighting an invisible foe, slashes and jabs, and then a sort of spin and flip with what was clearly meant to be a jab at the end, except he overbalanced and fell with another thump.

"You're landing too heavily," Hux offered, and Ben looked round, startled. "Try landing on the ball of your foot rather than the flat."

Ben stared at him. "You sure?"

Hux folded his arms. "Try it."

Ben looked sceptical, but tried the routine again, landing the flip, completing the jab and following it up with a parry before returning to ready. "How'd you know so much about Ataru?" Ben asked, astounded.

Hux tilted his head. "What's Ataru?"

"Form IV, what I was just doing," Ben said, confused. "Didn't you know that?"

Hux shook his head. "Never heard of it. I just know a bit about movement. You're too heavy-footed."

"Huh." Ben tossed his saber from hand to hand. "Lightsaber katas. Routines for practise and fighting. Um, I suppose you could try some? They're quite fun, and good exercise."

Hux frowned. "I don't have a saber."

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend using one at first anyway, not lit," Ben said. "Too dangerous. But like, I said, good exercise, and you might want to adapt some to your knives."

Hux considered. He did like a good bit of exercise, and there was something dance-like about the way Ben had been moving. "What would you recommend?"

Ben took a breath. "Okay. There's seven forms, and they each focus on a particular attribute. For example, Ataru prizes agility. Djem So/Shien, Form V, relies on speed. That was Darth Vader's speciality. Djem So is the offense side, and Shien the defense, by the way. The first one taught is Shii-Cho, which focuses on simplicity. But Soresu kata 1 is used as an exercise in endurance even among those not specialising in it. That's what it says in the notes left by…um, the guy who trained me, his master, uh…" Ben stuttered, and blushed. "It's mostly records these days, and that's what the record recommended."

"Well, I trust your judgement," Hux said simply. It certainly made sense for a lot of the Inquisitors' knowledge to have been scattered, and he was hardly going to press Ben when he knew it was a sore subject. And he did trust Ben when it came to saber technique. He was clearly competent. "Would it help if I improvised a saber hilt?"

"Yeah, I think so," Ben nodded. "Just to give you something to hold."

"Be back in a sec." Hux ducked into the galley, found a couple of spoons and bundled them together with some of the hair ties Ben had bought on Ieghi to make something about the right size and shape.

"Okay, so you stand like this," Ben began when he returned to the hold. "And it's step, parry, up, left, step, turn…"

It was less than two dozen motions, and it only took Hux a few attempts to get it right. It was an awful lot easier than many of his favourite dance routines, but it was a different sort of stretch. Ben directed him to keep repeating the same manoeuvre over and over, until he couldn't do it anymore.

Ben collapsed around about repetition thirty-five. Hux kept going. His feet burned, the tender skin of the soles protesting the excessive treatment. Hux ignored it. Step, parry, up, left, step, turn…

He lost count of repetitions.

He hadn't felt this exhausted since slogging through a rehearsal for the one show he did with the ballet class after a day's physical training, running and swimming and strength training, which had followed a weekend of survival training. He'd been dead on his feet by the time he returned to the Academy. And-

He collapsed, breathing heavily.

Ben passed him a bottle of water. "That was very good for a first attempt," he said admiringly. "And I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. I counted thirty, plus however many I did, plus however many you did while I was still a heap on the floor."

"Uh," Hux moaned. He _hated_ this weakness in his limbs, but his legs couldn't hold him up anymore, and if Ben was right then he could live with it. "Wha's the point of that again?"

"Building up endurance," Ben answered. He sounded winded. "Ugh. Not doing that again this week."

"Mm." Hux stared blearily up at the ceiling, and after a moment his eyes drifted closed. Just a few minute's rest.

Just a few minutes…

Something brushed his bare leg. Something cold and wet. Then something sharp scraped against it. His eyes shot open. "Millicent! Do not _nibble_ my peeling skin!"


	28. The Forest Moon

**Runaways Chapter 28 The Forest Moon**

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" Ben asked, trying to look round at Hux.

"Keep still," Hux grunted, flicking Ben's ear to get him to put his head back. "There were little girls in my fitness class who sometimes needed help."

"Wouldn't have imagined you'd help little girls with their hair," Ben commented.

"Circumstances," Hux mumbled. "Pass me that pin." Ben reached for a hair pin tipped with a green fake gem. "There you go."

Ben turned, and found the mirror from the fresher. His skin was yellowed, hair orange, and two little braids had formed a coronet while two more were pulled back to encircle the remaining free cascade that went past his shoulders. The green pin was just above his left ear. He looked almost…feminine.

"What do you think?" Hux asked uncertainly.

Ben grinned. "Unrecognizable."

"Even by your own mother?"

Ben flinched, and Hux's smile faded. "Don't think so, and I know you were just joking, I'm not offended," he said quickly. "It's wonderful."

Hux smiled again. He'd yellowed his own skin, and let his stubble grow in, even though it was just a bit of reddish fuzz. It made him look pretty different, too.

"So, can we go explore now?" Ben said eagerly.

"What do you want to do?" Hux sighed.

"I want to go to the cremation site of Darth Vader," Ben said.

"Okay…" Hux said. "We need to go shopping as well."

"What? Why?" Ben asked, frowning.

Hux sighed deeply. "Millicent got into the cupboard and chomped through the packaging on all the protein bars," he said wearily. "I shouldn't have fed her some yesterday. She got a taste for them." He pulled a face.

"At least she isn't eating your skin again," Ben sniggered.

Hux scowled. "Come on; let's go."

Ben grabbed his black bag before he followed Hux. If he was visiting the cremation site, he was bringing Grandfather's helmet with him.

Hux had slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder, the outdoor survival kit with it, his knives hidden beneath his jacket, and Millicent was clinging to his hip. Hux detached her, and put her on his other shoulder. "You bringing that?" he asked curiously.

Ben shrugged. "Um, yeah."

Hux frowned, then shook his head briefly. "If you want. Do you know where this cremation site is?"

"I'll know it," Ben said confidently. Luke had said there was a sort of aura around the site, even though Vader's body had dispersed leaving just his armour and prosthetics for cremation. He knew the rough location anyway. He'd chosen the landing site for its proximity, and could already feel a little something. He led the way out of the shuttle, and was barely aware of Hux shutting it up behind him. The sensation pulled Ben forwards.

He tramped through the forest, scarcely noticing his older shadow. Finally the sense stopped urging him on.

It was a clearing, much like many others, but the centre was black. Charred marks on the ground, and melted plasteel stuck to the heat-blackened rocks. This was the place.

Hux made a sort of half-gasp, and Ben looked back at him. He had a strange look, almost of wonder, and respect. "This is the place?" he whispered.

"Yeah." Ben knelt at the edge of the black, and slung the wrapped helmet into his lap. "I- I need to meditate. Um, mind if I…?"

"I'll go find that settlement," Hux nodded. "You have the comm?"

"Mm? Oh, yeah." The comm had come from one of the outdoor kits on Hoth, and Hux had insisted he take it, just in case. "Yeah, I'll comm you when I'm done."

Hux clapped Ben's shoulder. "Be safe."

When he was alone, Ben pulled the helmet out of the bag and set it on the scorched ground. "Hello, Grandfather."

* * *

* * *

 

Ben was taking a long time with his meditation. Hux had focused on restocking the rations, and was hiking back in the direction of the shuttle. Millicent had been getting restless, moving from his shoulder to the top of the pack and back. Time for a breather.

He eased his pack off, sat down next to it and pulled out a water bottle. He took a long drink, and Millicent scurried off. He considered chasing, but she'd come back. He opened one of the newly purchased protein bars and started snacking.

After a minute, he heard a distinct yowl. He looked up. The yowl came again. He grabbed his sniper rifle and pack and started towards the sound.

Millicent was up a bush, and had found a hunk of meat to gnaw on. "Millicent!" Hux called. "Milly, you ate our entire supply of protein bars last night, get away from that!"

Millicent ignored him, except perhaps to purr louder.

Hux huffed, and crossed to her. She and the meat were just out of his reach, so he dropped his pack, jumped, and-

 _Something_ swept him up.

* * *

* * *

 

Ben felt the Force tingle at him. He frowned. Danger.

But not to him. Not near him, either. Then…

He'd been becoming attuned to Hux lately. It must be Hux in danger.

"Have to run, Grandfather," he said, hastily stuffing the helmet back in its bag. He rose, circled the burn mark, and headed into the forest.

He could feel the Force warning him. It drew him on, increasing in intensity, then…

Stopped.

Either the danger was gone, or Hux was.

Ben yelped at the thought. And _ran_.

ʻ _I'm coming, Hux_ ,ʼ he thought, projecting for all he was worth. ʻ _Please be safe. I'm coming._ ʼ


	29. Capture

**Runaways Chapter 29 Capture**

Hux knew an awful lot of swear words, but he was starting to repeat himself. It was quite galling to be suddenly swept up in a net while trying to pry your pet cat off a chunk of meat, especially when said pet cat fell through the net to safety leaving you tangled up alone. He twisted a bit and flicked his wrists until he could take hold of his knives. It was surprisingly difficult to remain calm enough to cut himself free without cutting himself, but he was soon dropping to the forest floor.

He moaned slightly as he picked himself up. Whoever had set the trap would likely come to investigate, and he had to get out of sight quickly. He grabbed his pack and dived into the brush.

Then he started looking out for a bit of ginger. "Millicent!" he hissed. There was an orange flash, and a prickle of claws in his leg. Hux let out a barely audible sigh of relief, and cradled her close to his chest.

Whoever set the trap was going to be back to find out what it caught. Hux couldn't risk being caught fleeing the scene, so he'd have to wait until they came, found their prey fled, and left again.

Some minutes later something small and furry popped up. And another. A whole bunch of furry bear-like things with spears filled the clearing, chittering to each other and gesturing to the cut net. Ewoks, thought to be a very distant cousin of the Wookiees. Mostly harmless, but a little tricky to deal with if a pack of them caught you off-guard. They'd sided with the Rebels at the Battle of Endor, and had proved the deciding factor in the destruction of the shield generator. It was rather humiliating, really; an Empire falling due to primitive race of fluffy teddy bears.

The events of the final days of the Empire weren't taught to cadets until they were sixteen. While it was considered important for them to know the mistakes of the past so as not to repeat them, it was also thought wise to wait until their loyalty was assured before revealing these weaknesses. The destruction of the second Death Star would not have been so catastrophic had the Emperor and Lord Vader not both perished at the same time – a disaster that could be directly attributed to the Force users' obsession with Skywalker.

The Ewoks milled around a bit more. Hux forced himself to stay hidden. It wouldn't be good to be seen; there were far more spears than he was comfortable with.

Ben burst into the clearing.

The younger boy skidded to a halt, eyes wide as he saw the crowd he'd interrupted. The Ewoks wasted little time in pointing their spears at him, jabbing him in the ribs and resting one by his throat.

Kriff.

* * *

Ben didn't reach for his lightsaber. He wasn't sure he could get it out before he got stabbed. At least now he knew what the Force had warned him of. Hux must have taken his capture rather ill.

He just hoped he'd be able to remember the way back to the clearing to retrieve the wrapped helmet he'd dropped.

The little bear-creatures lashed him to a large stick by the wrists and ankles and hefted him off the ground. He vaguely remembered this from one of the more embarrassing stories Leia Organa had told. The story of when Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca and the droids were captured by small fluffy creatures because Solo couldn't keep calm in a crisis. But he hadn't just threatened their god, so he was probably not going to be eaten.

He was carried into the Ewoks' village and leant against a wall. There was a moment when some of them tried to lean him against it upside-down, but Ben squirmed and protested, and someone worked it out soon enough. He relaxed in his bonds, and reached out with his mind.

He couldn't feel Hux. There were no human presences in the village. This wasn't good. He felt out, and tried to grasp the hilt of his lightsaber in his pocket. He had to get out, and find out what had happened to Hux.

* * *

Hux climbed a tree. He'd left his pack, and Ben's velvet bag, and Millicent securely shut in his pack, at the foot of the tree, but had his sniper rifle over his shoulder. He had to find Ben, and release him. Then get going, quick.

It was starting to get dark. There was a night-vision scope in a holster stuck to the side of the rifle, and Hux figured Ben would have a better chance of slipping away at night. He climbed higher, and crawled along a mildly sturdy branch until he could see Ben tied to a pole leant against a building.

Hux lay down, and swung his rifle off his back. He swapped out the scopes, and started aiming.

He was a good shot. He was fairly confident he could do this.

* * *

Ben just couldn't keep hold of his saber. And he was getting tired. He kept reaching out, and eventually felt a human presence. But not Hux.

He could hear voices. Not close enough to make out the words, but voices. A human voice, and a protocol droid. Ewok chittering, from both Ewok and droid. The Ewoks must have gone to fetch someone from the Rebel outpost. This was not good.

There was a crack, and a blaster bolt careened into the binds at his feet. And then another, smashing into the pole by his wrists.

He slipped, fell, and rolled upright, shaking scorched rope fragments from his limbs. He looked around, in the direction the blaster bolts came from. He looked upwards, and saw-

A slight reflection off something high up.

There was a cry behind him. "Hey!"

Ben whirled around. There was someone in the garb of the old rebel army, and a blaster at his hip, reaching for the blaster. Not good at all. He turned and stared to run for the trees.

"Hold it!"

There was a rustle, and Hux appeared, dropping down from the tree. He had his sniper rifle to his eye, and shot, clearly too high to hit anyone. Covering Ben's retreat.

This proved to be a bad move. The rebel started firing.


	30. Hiding

** Runaways Chapter 30 Hiding **

Ben stumbled, going sprawling into the scrub as a white hot burn seared his thigh. Strong arms grabbed him round the waist and pulled him up, helping him limp behind a tree.

"Take these," Hux hissed, scooping up his pack and – thank the Force – Vader's helmet. He shoved the bundle into Ben's arms and secured his rifle across his back.

"I can't – Hux I can barely walk!" Ben spluttered, trying to get a firm grip on his burden.

"I know that," Hux snapped. Then he seized the younger around the waist and lifted him up, resuming their flight.

Ben wrapped one arm around Hux, helping to hold himself steady. "I honestly thought they wouldn't shoot us!" he gasped.

"I'm pretty sure he was aiming for me," Hux grunted. "And for my feet at that."

"Well his aim was off," Ben complained.

Hux huffed a laugh. "Can you use the Force to find the shuttle? I can't reach the locator."

Ben took a deep breath and concentrated. The pain in his leg was excruciating, but he had to push it away. He reached out. Vader's cremation site rang like a beacon, and it took a minute to look past it. Eventually he found the spot singing with heavy residual traces of him and Hux.

"Found it," he announced. "That way." He pointed off to the side, and Hux changed course.

"Are we being followed?" Hux asked, slightly breathless from the exertion of running while carrying Ben and their gear.

Ben concentrated, then shook his head. "No, but…there's people heading for the shuttle."

Hux cursed quietly. "Will we beat them to it?"

"Can't tell."

They travelled in silence. Ben tried to concentrate on the shuttle, but the pain kept distracting him. He almost blacked out, forcing him to focus on suppressing the pain, trying to release it into the Force with limited success. By the time he'd regained his concentration, Hux had started to veer off slightly.

"No, that way," Ben corrected him.

Hux was starting to slow down. "Are we nearly there?"

"Um…not really."

Hux groaned.

Then Ben felt it. "Oh, no. You might as well stop running."

Hux slowed, and stopped, putting Ben down on a fallen log. "What happened?"

"The men reached the shuttle."

Hux groaned again.

* * *

* * *

 

"Ouch!"

"Stop squirming."

Hux dabbed at the burn again, then slapped a bacta patch over it and wound a bandage around Ben's leg to hold it in place. The boy whimpered, and leaned into Hux's grip.

"That should do it," the former cadet announced, tying off the bandage. "Obviously the best option would be bed rest and limited activity, but…"

"Not an option," Ben concluded.

"Mm."

The rebels hadn't broken into the shuttle, but they had a guard on it. Several guards, actually. It was too risky to try and get past them, so Hux had recommended camping out for a day or two, until the rebels scaled back. He suspected Ben had agreed more for the sake of resting his injury than because he was especially enthusiastic, but it was a decent plan.

He'd pulled the small tent from his pack, set it up and settled Ben on the bedroll before making a cover of branches to hide it even better. He'd taken their comm and location units and deactivated them. They knew where they were, they were pretty near the shuttle, and Hux didn't want to risk anyone hijacking them. And he'd set up the moisture extraction unit so he could refill their water bottles. Only then did he discover that Ben didn't actually know how to dress his own wound.

"What next?" Ben asked, lying back on the bedroll.

"Well, I'll make up some ration soup for dinner, and Millicent will have to eat protein bar," Hux said pragmatically. "Then we get some rest. Will the Force wake you if there's danger, or will we have to set a watch?"

"Watch would be safest," Ben mumbled. "But how'd we see in the dark anyway? And shouldn't we stay inside the tent?"

Hux paused, and thought about it. One of them sitting outside the tent, peering into the gloom in an effort to see if anyone was coming, would probably attract more attention than them both snoozing away inside it. And if they were found, the more vulnerable they looked, the more likely the rebels were to show mercy.

"You're probably right," he admitted. "I think we missed lunch, so shall we have dinner early?"

Ben blinked blearily. He'd taken some of the anti-inflammatory earlier, Hux knowing the morphate was addictive and not wanting to risk him, but he was probably still in a lot of pain. "You haven't eaten all day," the youth announced.

Hux frowned, and cocked his head as he thought. "I had half a protein bar around noon," he protested.

Ben sighed softly. "Yeah, let's have an early dinner. And you should sleep more, if you're not going to eat properly."

Hux started setting up the burner, and laughed softly. "You're nearly as bad as my father's nanny droid."

"Just looking out for you." Ben shifted. "This isn't very comfortable."

"Bedrolls are usually more about compactness than comfort," Hux commented. He reached into his pack again and pulled out his greatcoat. "You'd usually use spare clothing as a pillow, but this is all I could fit in. And we only have three days' of rations for the both of us. I said you ought to bring the backpack."

"How was I to know we might want the spare medkit, an extra week's worth of rations and my spare outfit?"

"It's called being prepared."

"Now who's like a nanny droid?"

* * *

* * *

 

Hux took aim. Ben had convinced him to use a stun bolt this time. It hadn't taken much persuading; Hux _hated_ the thought of disappointing him more than he had to. He squeezed the trigger, and the single remaining guard on their shuttle dropped.

He shimmied back down the tree. It had taken two days for the guard to be reduced, and in that time they'd been caught in a nasty rainstorm that had washed out most of Ben's hair dye and the colouring on their skin, leaving them mostly back to their normal appearances, although Ben's hair was still braided and Hux desperately needed a shave. It had not been a fun two days.

Ben was waiting. His leg had improved, and the burn probably wouldn't scar, but he still needed help walking, and he couldn't run if they needed to. He had his black bag on a cord over his shoulder – Hux had insisted on the cord; it was too inconvenient a thing to carry without it – and held Millicent. Hux swung his pack onto his back and held out his arm.

"Where we going?" Ben asked softly as Hux helped him limp to the shuttle.

"There's an uninhabited moon with a decent atmosphere on the other side of the Imperial border," Hux replied. "I checked it out before we came here – the coordinates should still be in the navcomputer. It's designated VH7-2. We can lie low there until you've healed."

"You think of everything," Ben smiled weakly.

"I try." Hux deactivated the shuttle's security system and opened the boarding ramp. "Let's get out of here before someone comes to relieve the guard."


	31. Chasing Strays

**Runaways Chapter 31 Chasing Strays**

"I'm doing it, but I'm not happy about it," Han complained.

"Agreed," Chewie howled. "Let's get this done as quick as we can so we can get back to hunting for our cub."

"Just hope we don't miss a chance to catch up with him," Han grunted. "I mean really. Why do we have to go off on some wild nerf chase after stray Imperials?"

"Because we're the only ones nearby who have a chance of catching them?" Chewie suggested listlessly.

"Stop making sense, you overgrown carpet," Han grumbled.

They had the rough direction the Imperial shuttle had taken away from Endor and, predictably, it was headed straight towards the Imperial border. Chewie pulled up a star map, and the two considered a half dozen planets and moons that could be possible destinations.

"If they go to this one, this one, or this one, we won't be able to pursue them," Han mused. "Too populated to be safe; even if those two _were_ spies, they'd be home free. Same if they're headed any further in."

"So we just check these three, and either we catch up with them or we give it up," Chewie nodded. "The nearest is an unnamed moon. Designation VH7-2. About an hour away."

"Moon designation VH7-2 it is," Han sighed. He adjusted the autopilot, and flicked on the holo of his missing son.

He registered Chewie retreating to the rear for a while. He knew the Wookiee was worried, but he couldn't help brooding. He couldn't understand why Ben ran away. Of course he had been becoming increasingly withdrawn, and he and Leia had let him draw back, given him space, but…running off? If Ben was really so upset, why didn't he say something? Han had no idea what he'd done wrong, and it hurt so much to know he'd driven his own son away.

The autopilot beeped, warning him of imminent hyperspace departure. Han quickly closed the holo and called Chewie back.

They didn't need to speak to coordinate dropping from hyperspace and entering orbit; they'd done it so many times. Chewie started a life form/power source scan, and Han started the scanning sweep orbit pattern.

"There," Chewie growled after some minutes. "Lambda-class shuttle, two human life signs."

Han hailed the shuttle. "Imperial vessel, this is the _Millennium Falcon_. You have been trespassing in Republic space. Explain yourself, or prepare to be boarded."

There was no reply. Han repeated his demand, then sighed and brought the _Falcon_ in to land next to the grounded shuttle. "Chewie, I'm gonna have to board her," he grumbled. "Stay here in case they try to scarper."

Chewie grumbled at being left behind, but that was normal.

Han drew his blaster and left the _Falcon_ , stalking over to the shuttle. He rapped on the door, then hit the button to lower the ramp. The security system hadn't been engaged, so the ramp opened easily.

Han carefully prowled through the shuttle. The hold had one raised bench, with a couple of blasters set on it and a sniper rifle leant against the bulkhead by the ramp. He headed deeper, passed the closed doors to the bunk rooms, the open galley and the closed fresher. The cockpit at the end of the short corridor was closed.

Han pressed his back to the wall and aimed his blaster before hitting the door control. He swung round, to find…no-one.

He turned, and tried the first of the bunk rooms. The door slid open, and Han let his blaster precede him into the small room.

There was a teenager crouching in front of the bed, his face twisted in a snarl, a knife in one hand. The other arm was reached behind him to hold the hand of his companion.

Han lowered the blaster. He wasn't expecting the Imperial to be so young – and the other looked even younger. The one on the bunk looked up, and his long dark hair fell back to reveal a familiar nose.

Han went cold. He froze where he stood, and it felt like everything – local wildlife, the wind, _every planet in the galaxy_ – stopped where it was. "Ben?" Han whispered.

The redhead growled as he stepped forward. "Stay back, rebel," he spat.

Han holstered his blaster and held out his empty hands. Ben was leaning around the other boy, brown eyes going wide in surprise, starting to tremble. "I'm not going to hurt you," Han said gently. "Kid, tell your ginger to calm down." There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, halfway between sickness and sheer relief.

"Dad? You came for me?" Ben whispered.

Han Half-gasped. How could Ben doubt him? "Ben…what are you talking about? Of course I did. Haven't stopped lookin' for ya." Tears pricked his eyes and started trickling down his face.

Ben twisted around his friend and threw himself at Han.

Han sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around him. His hand buried itself in Ben's hair, crushing the boy to his chest. "Thank the stars you're safe," Han mumbled. "We thought we'd never see you again, kiddo. It was driving us crazy."

Ben was shaking, and Han just held him closer. Finally reunited with his wayward son.


	32. End of the Line

**Runaways Chapter 32 End of the Line**

Hux knew he was doomed as soon as he heard the words ʻMillennium Falconʼ. The only way it could be worse would be if General Solo had brought Skywalker with him. He retreated to the bunk room, hoping against hope he'd be able to keep Solo off Ben long enough for the man's abominable sense of self-righteous pity to convince him to show Ben mercy. That was all he could aim for now.

Ben pushed himself up. "Hux? What's going on?"

"Quiet!" Hux hissed. "Don't worry, it's going to be okay." He drew one of his knives as he backed up to cover his young friend. Ben grabbed his free hand, and held tight.

They were silent as the boarding ramp opened, and footsteps started exploring the shuttle. Ben started quaking, and he pressed himself as close to Hux as he could.

The bunkroom door opened, and a blaster appeared, followed by Solo. The Rebel General lowered his blaster as he took in the scene. "Ben?" the man whispered.

Hux felt his breath catch in his chest. If Solo knew who Ben was, knew the Inquisitor's trainee, they were in more trouble than he thought. Solo was advancing- "Stay _back_ , rebel," Hux spat out, desperate to keep Ben safe.

The blaster was away, and Solo held out his hands. Ben was a quivering mass of nerves, but was starting to lean around Hux. "I'm not going to hurt you," Solo said as though he thought he was coaxing a frightened animal. "Kid, tell your ginger to calm down."

Hux bristled, but couldn't quite make sense of why Solo was addressing Ben, because _Ben_ couldn't be the ginger.

"Dad? You came for me?"

Oh. Kriffing. No.

Solo. Ben _Solo_. Son of Leia Organa and nephew of Jedi Luke Skywalker. Not an Inquisitor trainee, a Jedi apprentice. Solo was talking again, and Hux only just registered Ben pushing past him to get to his _father_.

He felt numb. There was nothing for him. He'd sacrificed his career for some foolish crusade with the child of his worst enemies. Gave up everything, because he saw a boy who needed help and protection.

And Ben didn't need him. He had the Force, and his lightsaber, and could have the entire New Republic swarming to his rescue if he needed it. What scant protection could Hux give him? Clearly nothing worth considering.

And now Ben was back with his father, and whatever misunderstanding (because clearly that ʻthey don't care about meʼ stuff was either a misunderstanding or some sort of deception) was sorted out, and Hux was a loose end. Unwanted, with nothing to his name. Not even the shuttle; that was Ben's. So much for the two of them against the galaxy.

He just had to get away. Hux span his knife and slid it back into the holster and edged around the pair of Solos. His pack was next to the door, restocked just in case, and he could just take advantage of the distraction-

"Kid, where are you going?" Hux jerked around to see Solo holding out a hand and smiling through tears. "I just got here. You haven't even given me a chance to thank you."

Hux's brow furrowed in confusion. Thank him? For what? Or was this some sort of ploy to keep him around until he could be locked up? He held back, just out of Solo's reach, not sure if he should leave.

Ben's hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him over. Solo wrapped his free arm around him, and held both boys tight.

Hux stiffened in the hold. Ben was snuggling into the embrace, and Solo had trapped him with the arm around his waist and his forehead pressed to Hux's scalp. No-one said anything, just breathed.

Hux tried to keep his breathing even. He really needed a drink; this was just…too much. It was all over now. A prisoner of the Rebels and Republic. Only a matter of time before his execution.

But Ben was safe. Solo wouldn't hurt his own son. Hux had succeeded in protecting him – the only thing he'd achieved. Protecting the offspring of his sworn enemy. How…ironic.

After a seeming eternity, Solo stood up, pulling Hux and Ben with him. "C'mon, the _Falcon_ ," he mumbled. Ben followed, and kept his grip on Hux. Hux didn't bother trying to pull away. There was nowhere to go, after all, and he might as well take full advantage of his last few days, or hours – minutes, maybe – with Ben. Seeing as he did want him around for _something_ , it seemed.

The _Millennium Falcon_ was a battered old freighter, with a reputation that didn't even begin to match its appearance. The ramp was down. Han hustled them up it, and into the passenger compartment.

The Wookiee, Chewbacca, came in from the cockpit, and lunged. The furry arms were wrapped around Ben in an instant, and then one snaked around Hux as well.

"Uncle Chewie?" Ben mumbled, voice muffled by fur. "You were looking for me too?"

Chewbacca howled. Then proceeded to let out a litany of growls and howls and grunts. Solo ruffled Ben's hair and headed back out of his ship.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Ben whispered. "Please don't be like that."

"What's he saying?" Hux hissed.

"That everyone was really worried when I ran away," Ben muttered. "Um, stuff like that." A few more growls. "He says he heard I was hurt?"

The Wookiee gently manoeuvred them onto the bench, and Hux helped Ben roll up his trouser leg to reveal the bacta patch tied over the blaster wound. "He's taken painkillers, and it should heal up in another few days," Hux muttered.

Chewbacca patted Hux on the shoulder – encouragingly? – as Solo bustled back in, laden down with their bags. He dropped them on a small table, and plucked an orange fluff ball from his shoulder, and shoved Millicent into Hux's hands. "Buckle up, kids. Let's get going."


	33. Home and Safe

**Runaways Chapter 33 Home and Safe**

Han deactivated the _Tydirium_ 's comm system, satisfied. His contacts on Endor would bring the shuttle back to Yavin for him, and he could focus on his son, and the other boy.

That other boy. He matched Anat Potdrum's description of Zander Ardeen, but that probably wasn't his name, and Ben hadn't introduced them. Didn't seem very chatty either – rather nervous, really. Shy, maybe? But he'd looked so fierce, so willing to throw himself into a fight – for Ben.

Whatever it was the pair of them had been doing, Ben had come out of it alive and mostly well. And Zander had done that. Kept his baby safe and looked after him. Han would do whatever the boy needed, whether that would be reuniting him with his own family or providing a new one.

He returned to the bunkroom. There were a pair of packs he slung over his shoulders, and an open medkit on the bunk. Han stuffed a stray roll of bandages back in, and snapped it shut. Then he spotted a bulky black velvet bag. He'd seen it in Ben's room at the Temple, and Ben brought it home for the end-of-cycle holiday. Ben didn't tell them what was in it, but he wouldn't be happy if it got left behind for however long it took to get the shuttle home.

He left the bunkroom, and quickly glanced into the other rooms. The other bunkroom looked unused, spare sheets folded at the foot, and the fresher and galley had nothing they didn't have at home – except a bottle of hair dye. Then there were the blasters in the hold. Maybe he should fetch them?

Nah, they wouldn't need them. And they'd still be there when the shuttle made it home.

Han took one last glance around, when something latched on to his ankle. Juggling the various bags, he glanced down, and saw the little cat Potdrum had mentioned rubbing against his leg. Han scooped her up, and let her clamber onto his shoulder. Then he closed the shuttle, not locking it, and returned to the _Falcon_.

The boys were sat on the bench by the holochess table. Zander was showing Chewie a bandage around Ben's leg – it looked like there was a bacta patch there too. Han dumped the bags on the table – careful not to activate the game – and removed the cat from his shoulder. He handed it off to a slightly startled Zander and grinned. "Buckle up, kids. Let's get going."

Chewie ruffled Ben's hair – and it seemed a lot longer than it should be; he'd only been gone about a month – and headed for the cockpit. Han lingered just long enough to make sure the boys were settled and press a kiss to Ben's forehead before joining his first mate.

"We ready to go?" Chewie asked. "Cubs settled down?"

"They seem to be," Han shrugged. "Let's get 'em home."

Chewie stayed quiet as they left the atmosphere and prepared for the hyperspace jump. "Do we need to contact Endor?" he asked eventually.

"Already done it," Han answered. "I just told them the Imperial problem was sorted, and needed the shuttle flown to Yavin."

Chewie rumbled approvingly. They hadn't let the public know about Ben's flight, because the twelve-year-old son of one of the most influential people in the Senate being loose in the galaxy could prove too much temptation to the more unscrupulous beings out there. Instead, most of the pilots from the Temple settlement had gone out searching, including Luke. They were all trustworthy ex-Rebels who'd settled into semi-communal village life together, while helping with the practical running of the New Jedi Temple. "I can start recalling the searchers," the Wookiee offered.

"Yeah, you do that," Han nodded. "I'll call Luke."

Chewie nodded, pulled up the data-transmission program and tapped out the message – most of their people didn't know enough Shyriiwook to understand Chewie. Han took the holo-comm.

A blue silhouette of Luke's head and shoulders appeared. " _Skywalker here. Han? Got some news?_ " The Jedi looked worn and worried. He probably hadn't been sleeping much.

Han smiled. "Yes, we have, kid. We found him."

Luke closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. " _Thank the Force. Is he okay?_ "

"He's got a leg injury, and he's a little thin, but he's fine, and we picked up that older kid Potdrum mentioned as well," Han informed him. "We're heading back home now."

" _I'll turn around too, then,_ " Luke nodded. " _How far out are you?_ "

Han glanced at Chewie, who moaned an answer. "Six and a half hours. You?"

" _Just over seven, including time to change course._ " There was an indistinct warble from Artoo, and Luke glanced over before returning to Han. " _Yeah. We'll be home soon after you. Want me to call Leia? Or we could conference call?_ "

Han frowned. "Actually…I think we might want to not tell her until we get there."

Chewie whipped around. "Seriously?" he howled. Even the normally calm Luke looked taken aback.

Han held his hands up. "She's worried enough as it is, and if we tell her she'll just be fretting that we'll get attacked by pirates or sucked into a black hole or something, or that Ben's more injured than we think and is about to drop dead. It's only a few more hours, and it's still night at home anyway. This way, she'll get a pleasant surprise."

"She'll recognise the sound of the _Falcon_ 's landing gears," Chewie pointed out. "And she won't be happy if she thinks we've given up looking for Ben."

"So we push him through the door first," Han shrugged. "I just want the whole family home together."

Luke smiled tiredly. " _Yeah, that sounds good_ ," he said. There was another beep. " _I have go, we're dropping into realspace._ "

"See you soon, kid," Han nodded. Luke smiled back, and his image flickered out of existence.

"I'm just glad this is all over," Chewie rumbled. "But what went wrong?"

"I don't know," Han sighed. "He didn't think we'd come after him, he said that, but…I really don't know. I just want him home and safe."


	34. Spiral

**Runaways Chapter 34 Spiral**

Ben yawned and laid his head on Hux's lap. He'd been sleeping a lot lately – probably his body's way of getting additional energy for healing the blaster wound. Hux gently ran a hand through his hair, then went back to repacking the medkit.

One of the little bottles of pills dropped and Hux caught it before it could fall. It was the morphate, which gave such a nice sensation. Almost on automatic, he opened the bottle, palmed a pill, and closed it again. Ben didn't notice. Hux finished packing the stray bandages into the kit and closed it.

Ben squirmed in his lap, making himself as comfortable as possible. He reached out a hand and made a sort of beckoning gesture at the pile of gear on the table. His black bag rose and flew over to him. He hugged it close to his chest and curled in on himself so tight Hux had to check to be sure he wasn't sucking his thumb. Then he fell asleep.

There was a gentle pressure as Millicent placed her front paws on Hux's leg and pushed up to sniff delicately at Ben's hair. Then she lay across Hux's thigh and settled down. She'd hidden under the bench at the scent of the Wookiee, which was probably too much like predator. Hux scratched her head, and remembered the pill in his hand.

It was a mess. Hux was almost certain he was a dead boy walking. What was Solo going to do with him? How long until he was pulled away and put in cuffs? And what would they do when he refused to tell them all the First Order's secrets? How hard would they push him? Would he give up before- Or would they just execute him first? That would be…easier.

Why, oh why did he run off? It was just getting worse. He was starting to feel _fear_ , and that was something he'd banished years ago. It was madness. He felt like he was spiralling down into insanity.

But he didn't have to feel the descent. He dry-swallowed the pill quickly. He so desperately needed the numbness, and it was only a matter of time before the option was lost.

He ran his hand through Ben's hair, watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful. All the little worries and concerns and griefs that had been leaving tense furrows on his forehead and crinkles around his eyes. He'd never looked younger. He slumbered, idle and placid.

Then familiar fuzziness swept over Hux. It had made school bearable, when the stress of exams and assignments and the near-constant threat of assassination attempts got too much, and he just needed to get out of his head. There were always pills being passed around, a contraband bottle sneaked in that could be stolen, and there was always the endorphin rush of sex. Just a way to get the sheer overwhelming reality of how much was asked of him out of mind.

And in the end, he hadn't delivered. Grades and performance was meaningless unless he was there to deliver what they indicated. What had he achieved, really? Well, he'd kept Ben safe. That was it. And Ben would go home, and he'd be left. Alone. Like always. But now he knew what it was like to have a friend – at least he thought he had. Ben had probably been playing him all along. And Hux had indeed protected him. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Because he'd done it. He'd achieved something. Ben will live.

And Hux will die. Life will go on. The planets will spin. The stars will shine. Ben will be fine, and Hux will become star dust.

It was all too much. Hopefully Ben wouldn't watch his execution. That would be…

There was a prickling around his eyes. He couldn't remember how to cry. His fingers were still moving through the short fur of Millicent's scalp, and she made a plaintive mewl at his movements.

Footsteps. Hux looked up, seeing Solo come out of the cockpit. Hux held still as he came over and knelt in front of him, reaching out to stroke Ben's cheek. Then he smiled at Hux. "Hey, kid. It's gonna be okay. You're safe now."

Hux stared blankly. If he was prone to hysteria, he probably would have laughed. Safe now? He'd never been safe in his life. He never would be. Especially not among his enemies.

Solo must have picked up on his…reticence. "My name is Han Solo, by the way. You wanna tell me yours?"

Hux kept staring. What was he meant to say to that? If he was in interrogation, he was meant to recite name, rank and military ID number. But this wasn't interrogation. Not yet.

Solo sighed. "Going by what Anat Potdrum said, I'm guessing you go by Zander Ardeen. That what you want me to call you? I mean, I don't think that's your real name, but we can get to that later. You want something to drink? Some water?"

Hux flinched slightly before he could stop himself. They could ʻget to that laterʼ could they? How…reassuring. What he wouldn't do for a hyper-vodka right now. Not that he would get it. Or he could trust anything Solo gave him anyway.

Solo seemed to give up on getting an answer. He cleared his throat. "Listen, Zander, I'm not good at thank-yous. But I need you to know how grateful I am. For protecting my son. You looked ready to give your life for him. And trust me when I say I know that look." He stood up, clapped Hux on the shoulder and stroked Ben's hair once more before returning to the cockpit. Hux watched him leave.

What was _that_ all about? Was he trying to weasel answers out of him the easy way? Or did he…want something else?

Something besides execution. But what?

What could Solo possibly want from him?

Hux had no idea what to do.


	35. Distress

**Runaways Chapter 35 Distress**

Chewie glanced up from his screen as Han returned to the cockpit. "How are they?" he asked.

"Ben's sleeping," Han sighed. "The other one, though, he's not doing so well."

"He was certainly looking nervous earlier," Chewie remarked. "Got a name from him?"

"Nervous isn't the half of it," Han grumbled. "No, but he answered to Zander. Maybe he'll give us his real name later, but right now he's completely devastated, and I can't work out why."

"Potdrum said he was looking after Ben, and we can't ignore someone who kept our cub safe," Chewie howled. "Especially if there's a life debt."

"I don't think letting Ben run around after him wherever is necessarily the best idea," Han mused. "Would a debt be satisfied if we gave Zander a new life with us? Or got him back to his family if he wanted it?"

Chewie shrugged. "Maybe. I doubt his people have the same honour code as mine, but I'm not going to stand by if you try to push him off somewhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Han grumbled. "You know that."

Chewie rumbled and shrugged. Han didn't have the same concept of honour, but he wouldn't abandon someone who'd helped his family. Or a child. It wasn't in his nature. "Does he think we'll hurt him? For…keeping Ben from us?"

"For _saving_ Ben? Surely he wouldn't…" Han sighed. "I don't know. He's in an awful state. Could you go talk to him? You're good with kids."

"He seemed pretty distressed by me," Chewie hedged.

"He seems distressed by _everything_ ," Han snorted. "You can hardly make it worse."

Chewie sighed, and stood. He might as well try.

Ben looked wonderfully peaceful, even if he was snoozing with his head on someone else's lap and hugging his velvet bag. The little cat had curled up next the bag. But the redhead looked noticeably frightened.

Chewie pretended not to focus too much on the boys, but he couldn't escape the prickling sensation of Zander's stare, the ginger tracking his movements warily. Chewie opened up one of the storage lockers and pulled out a water bottle and a protein bar. He turned around again and held them out to Zander.

He waited. Zander was tense, wary, and he couldn't understand Shyriiwook. Chewie tried to communicate a desire to nurture, to help, and finally the teen reached out and took the offerings.

Chewie smiled. He carefully patted Zander's arm (ignoring the way he flinched beneath his hand) and returned to the cockpit.

"What'd you say?" Han asked casually.

Chewie sighed. "You know most people don't understand me."

"Yeah, sorry; forgot," Han mumbled.

"Did you also forget to brush your teeth this morning?"

* * *

* * *

 

Hux stuffed the protein bar into his pack without seriously considering it. Taking food from enemies was not wise. What about the water? He couldn't risk dehydration. Maybe he could try it on Millicent? No, that wouldn't be fair on the poor kitty.

But they wouldn't just poison him right now, surely. If they wanted to kill him quick and simple they could have shot him before even taking off. It all seemed like a waste of time. But they might have drugged it. Just to make sure he couldn't fight when they came to take him away, in case he hurt Ben if they disarmed him.

Because he'd be lucky to merely end up in a cell. He couldn't not fight back, it just…wasn't him. He'd _have_ to try and hold onto Ben for as long as he could before they dragged him off.

Oh, and Solo hadn't taken his knives away. An oversight? But it gave Hux a chance to escape when they arrived. Perhaps he could live rough, and watch Ben from a distance.

He put the water bottle on the table. If it was drugged, he couldn't risk it interacting with his painkiller. He'd crashed from drug mismatch a time or two, and it wasn't good.

He reached over and petted Millicent. Chewbacca's reappearance had disturbed her somewhat. It had unsettled Hux too. He'd never seen a real Wookiee before. Non-human species weren't considered sufficiently capable to have a position in the First Order, except as subjects. So why waste valuable learning time on them?

Emperor Palpatine had enslaved them. They were big and strong, and made good manual labourers if you could keep them under control. They were vicious, said to enjoy rending their enemies limb from limb. The height of uncivilised.

According to the records of the Fall of the Empire, the Wookiee Chewbacca was meant to be devoted to Solo. No-one seemed to know why. But that meant…

Vicious and devoted. Yes, that meant Chewbacca could well be his executioner. Just so long as it wasn't in front of Ben.

He sunk into the half-drugged haze, trying to push away the anxiety. It was a waiting game now. If they were waiting for him to fall asleep, to succumb a drug in the food or water, and then take advantage of his weakness, he'd be ready.

If they dragged him away, he'd fight back, kicking and snarling and biting and slashing with his knives. Once Ben was out of range, of course. When Solo moved, when his time ran out, he'd have to get away.

He couldn't take the wait. Couldn't bear the inactivity, the sick anticipation. He leant back, closed his eyes. He curled slightly around Ben and started to feign sleep.

But he kept his wrists ready to flick and release his knives.


	36. Homecoming

** Runaways Chapter 36 Homecoming **

 

Han brought the _Falcon_ out of hyperspace, trepidation mounting as he set course to enter orbit around Yavin IV before landing. Almost home, back to Leia. They hadn’t spoken much since he set off after Ben, just a few calls to update her. They were both just so upset and angry with themselves. And they’d found ways to keep busy.

He got Chewie to take over and went to rouse the boys. Ben was still asleep, but Zander, although curled slightly and breathing steady and deep, was clearly wound tight. Han padded over, and crouched before the two. Zander had tensed even more with each of his steps, and was practically quivering where he sat.

“Hey,” Han whispered. “You wanna wake Ben up?”

Unbelievably, Zander clenched even more.

Han sighed. “You’re clenched real tight,” he explained. “People don’t do that in their sleep, kid.”

Grey-green eyes blinked blearily at him, still clearly nervous, but at least not aggressive. The teen glanced down at Ben, and lifted up the snoozing pet first.

Said pet yowled, digging her claws into Ben’s shirt and, probably, the flesh underneath. Ben’s eyes shot open, and he flinched and turned over, burying his face in Zander’s stomach. He groaned, but didn’t look up.

“Hey, Ben? We’re home,” Han said gently.

Ben squirmed, and Han felt a grin spread across his face as the boy turned to him, sitting up with tousled hair. “Home? Yavin?” He yawned. “We…we’re going to see Mum?”

“Yeah. She was in pieces when you vanished.”

“Oh. I…” He looked down and away, and swallowed. “I didn’t think you guys would care all that much.”

Han reached out to help Ben up, and Zander pulled back slightly, curling protectively around him. Ben froze, until Zander relaxed his grip a little. Han held still, hand out, until Ben took it. It was almost like coaxing a frightened animal.

Except Zander was the scared one, and Ben seemed caught between the two of them.

Ben let Han ease him up, and slipped his arm through the loose drawstring on his black bag so he could take Zander’s hand. The redhead let the brunette pull him up, still holding the cat. He was tense, nervous, and clinging to his pet so hard she yowled.

Han sighed again. “Easy, kid. This isn’t death row.”

The look in Zander’s eyes spoke volumes for his disbelief.

Han moved his hand to Ben’s shoulder, and steered both youngsters to the ramp.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Leia and Han’s house was opposite the spaceport and Security Centre, putting them at the administrative hub of the village. This meant Leia could hear the _Falcon_ come in to land from her office.

Han should not be back. He’d promised to find their son. If he was back already, did that mean he or Chewie was hurt? Or had the scoundrel given up after only a month?

She was out the door before she’d fully considered her actions, and saw-

Her baby.

Her precious little boy.

Safe and well and _home_.

She tried to say something, but her heart was in her throat, and she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Her hands came up to cup around her mouth. Tears wet her cheeks, and she still couldn’t say a word.

Something brushed past her leg, and a shriek pierced the air. “You left! You left us! Why did you leave? I missed you Benny!”

The little girl who’d pushed her way out sprinted across the street and attached herself to Ben’s leg. Ben looked away from Leia to pay attention to her. “Sorry, Rey, I shouldn’t have. I’m home now.”

Leia felt a sob catching in her chest, and moved. She was mildly aware of what was going on around her – other people coming to see what the fuss was, Chewie carrying a few bags, Han standing behind Ben and a ginger teen holding her boy’s hand. Then Ben was in her arms. He wasn’t much smaller than her, but she was determined to envelope him completely.

Ben trembled in her arms, clinging to her, like he hadn’t done in years. “I’m sorry, Mum,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“You’re safe, oh Ben, you’re _home_ ,” Leia sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

Han put one arm around the pair of them, the other balancing Rey on his hip. “Let’s get inside,” he suggested, and pushed them back to the house. Presumably he’d got his hugs in earlier.

Ben’s new friend stumbled, still clinging to Ben’s hand like a limpet. Leia spared a wisp of sensitivity to curl around his mind, and got a lot of trepidation, teamed with a deep regard for Ben. Good enough for her.

When they got to the living room, Ben dropped onto one of the sofas, pulling his redhead with him, and Rey quickly stole the spot on his other side. Leia took the other sofa with Han, and let Chewie bring up the rear.

“It’s so _good_ to have you home,” Leia said softly. “I don’t understand. What did we do wrong?”

“I thought you didn’t love me,” Ben mumbled, looking away. “I thought you wouldn’t miss me.”

“Oh, _Ben_ ,” Leia whispered, a deep pain inside her. “No, no, we love you so much, we-”

“I know,” Ben interrupted, looking up, a few tears building at the corners of his eyes. He looked directly at Han. “You came after me. You missed me. I…I really didn’t think you would. I didn’t think I’d hurt you.”

Leia dropped onto her knees in front of him and hugged him again. “I’m so sorry we let you think that. Please don’t ever think we don’t care.”

Ben wrapped his free arm around her, and then Han came and joined them. This was what she’d been dreaming of, the family together, home.


	37. Family Reunion

**Runaways Chapter 37 Family Reunion**

_Beep beep bobeep._

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Artoo," Luke mumbled. "Just bringing up the flight path now."

Luke guided the shuttle into the spaceport completely manually, without Artoo's input. He liked the feel of controlling the craft himself, a sort of vague sense of being one with his shuttle. A Force thing, quite likely; the records he'd acquired from the Jedi had spoken of awareness of one's surroundings, but mostly focused on living things. It seemed the Jedi never really asked why some of their number could feel their physical surroundings so keenly. Or perhaps it was just lost knowledge. This wasn't a particularly responsive or agile craft; one of a number gifted to the Jedi Temple and used mainly to take his young ones between the Temple and their homes, and for simple piloting tuition. But if Luke had taken his X-Wing, he wouldn't have been able to bring Ben home if he'd found him.

The spaceport was rather disorganised, shuttles and freighters and a few fighters or bombers that could carry multiple crewmen all jumbled up together. The portmaster scurried over, datapad clutched to his chest, as Luke disembarked, Artoo at his heels. "Master Skywalker," he gasped, a little out of breath. "Do you wish to leave the shuttle here, or…?"

Luke shook his head. "No, it'll go back to the Temple. I can be back in an hour or so, I think, to move it-"

The portmaster shook his head quickly. "No need, I'm sure I can have someone take care of it." He smiled. "You go back home. And tell Ben we all missed him."

Luke nodded absently. "I will. Thanks." He hurried out, already reaching for the blazing Force presence next to Leia's and Rey's. And beyond the glowing presences was a roiling mass of emotion, relief and happiness and love and confusion and turmoil, almost overloading Luke's senses. He withdrew into himself, until there was merely a hum of feeling.

He opened Leia's front door and looked onto the living room. His nephew was in the centre of a cluster of people, a little thin and worn, a little uncertain and confused, but happy and whole. Luke stood in the doorway for a moment, until Rey looked over at him.

"Father, look!" she cried, hopping off the sofa. "Benny's back! He's home!"

Luke moved. One moment in the door, the next in Rey's vacated seat with his arms around Ben. "Oh Ben, I was so worried," he murmured. "I'm so sorry. What did I do?"

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Uncle Luke," Ben mumbled, wrapping one arm around him. "I shouldn't have run away like that."

"I missed you," Luke choked. "So, _so_ much."

_Bee bee-waaaah!_

"Sorry, Artoo," Ben mumbled. "He said I was a naughty baby master, scaring everyone. I won't do it again."

Luke glanced up, wondering who Ben had translated for, before briefly catching the eye of a teenaged redhead with a death grip on Ben's other hand. Han had mentioned this boy being seen with Ben on Nar Utta, so this wasn't a problem. Luke drew back a little, and Rey squirmed into his lap to snuggle up to Ben.

Luke opened up a little, letting the relief and happiness back in. Rey chattered, telling Ben everything he'd missed, and Han and Chewie related their search, and Artoo chittered about his and Luke's. Leia leant on Ben's knee, looking up at her son adoringly.

But there was a distinct note of despair, and Luke honed in on it. It was coming from Ben's friend. Luke looked at him a little more closely, noting pale skin, wide, frightened eyes, tense muscles, and a sense of complete despair. It thrummed through Luke, making his teeth ache.

He glanced at Leia, catching her eye and flicking his gaze to the redhead. Leia shrugged slightly, and Luke suppressed a sigh. He waited until there was a moment of quiet.

"Hey," he said gently, looking over Ben's head. "What's your name?"

* * *

* * *

 

All the stories Hux had heard of the Jedi had been of the old Order. The serious, stoic, teeth-clenchingly annoyingly calm master mystics. While this hadn't exactly matched up with the Luke Skywalker who'd fought with the Rebellion, especially not before the encounter at Bespin, Hux had expected Luke would sober up into the old stereotype, but…

This wasn't what he'd expected. Skywalker was so…affectionate? And the little girl called him Father. Was he really Jedi?

Jedi. Mind-reader. Who could go into your head and scoop out everything that had ever been in your mind. That must be why Solo had spared him.

To have his mind stripped before his execution, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"What's your name?"

The question rang through Hux's head. He almost looked up, but… _ʻW_ _ould eye contact make it easier to strip-mine my brain? Not worth the chance, can't risk it. Um, what about answering? In interrogation, you give name, rank, and serial number, and focus on that answer to get through torture. But Ben's right here. Can I really start that with Ben next to him?_ _ʼ_

And then everyone was staring at him. Ben gripped his hand a little harder, looking concerned.

Solo spoke up. "Don't think ginger here is in the mood to talk just yet," he said, kindly. "We're calling him Zander just now."

"Zan-da?" The little girl clambered across Ben's legs, leaning on the blaster burn. Ben winced.

Organa glanced between Ben and Hux. "You're hurt, Ben, and it looks like Zander could do with a check-up. Why don't we all take a little trip down to the Infirmary?"

Oh. This could not end well.


	38. Overwhelming

**Runaways Chapter 38 Overwhelming**

Ben kept his grip on Hux's hand as tight as possible. This was… overwhelming. His dad and Uncle Chewie had come to find him, his mum had cried at his absence, Uncle Luke had said sorry. Even Artoo had worried, and Rey? Ben had thought she'd forget him fairly quickly. They all _wanted_ him, _loved_ him, _missed_ him. But that didn't fit. They hadn't cared before; they'd been too absorbed in their own interests and they'd feared his strength. Had the shock of his absence really caused such a dramatic change of heart?

But Hux was still here with him, Hux who'd fought for him and cared for him and been by his side faithfully since they'd met. Who'd used his own money to fund their flight. Been injured on his behalf. Taken the time to devise a long term strategy. Indulged him. Not pressed him for things he didn't want to reveal. Risked himself to rescue him. They'd only been together a few weeks, but Hux had been a Force-given gift, and Ben did not want to let go of him.

His mum was leading them through the settlement to the Infirmary, one arm around Ben's shoulders. Hux was on Ben's other side, a constant amid the uncertainty brought on by everyone's reactions. And there was Dad, and Uncle Chewie, and Uncle Luke carrying Rey, and Artoo trundling along behind. But someone was missing…

"Mum? Where's Threepio?"

"He was damaged," Mum explained, somewhat apologetic. "You know how unique his design is, and Luke was off looking for you…" She trailed off.

Hux squeezed his hand. "Threepio?" he murmured.

"Mum's protocol droid," Ben whispered back. "He's something of a hodgepodge, 'cause Grandfather made him from scraps – at least that's what Artoo says. Threepio was wiped when Mum's adopted father acquired him, but Artoo's wipe didn't take. Anyway, Luke usually fixes him up. He's good with mechanics."

"It's a Skywalker talent," Uncle Luke added. "Seems to have skipped Leia, though."

"I've never actually tried," Mum admitted.

"Her highness always has much more _worthy_ things to do than get her hands dirty," Dad smirked.

"Keep that up, and I'll show you just how dirty I can get my hands," Mum warned, smacking Dad on the arm.

Hux flinched slightly.

Ben squeezed Hux's hand and opened his mind. Hux was a maelstrom, the pain he;d sense on Khegjisug magnified, taking over, barely restrained by the thinnest façade that didn't actually hide his despair very well. There was one recurring notion that Hux seemed to cling to; a desperate need to keep hold of Ben.

And Ben was all too willing to keep hold of Hux.

* * *

* * *

 

Han was almost jealous of Zander Ardeen; Ben would not let him go, seemingly devoted to the redhead. The jealousy had at first been kept at bay by relief that Ben had found someone to watch his back, but now by Zander's clear distress. It was somewhat worrying how scared and upset the older teen was, and he wasn't letting Ben go any more than Ben was letting go of him.

The Infirmary was usually fairly quiet, and today was no exception. Dr Harter Kalonia was all too willing to give Ben a check-up and examine his injury.

"It's been very well treated; it won't even scar," Kalonia nodded approvingly. "You're very capable, young man."

Zander nodded, but didn't look up at her. He was sitting on the bed next to Ben, clutching him, as Ben was examined.

"A touch of recent malnutrition, a little vitamin deficiency, but overall you're fine," Kalonia concluded. "Now, your turn, young man."

Zander flinched, jerking away from the scanner. Ben tightened his grip, Rey whimpered and buried her head in Luke's shirt, and Leia and Luke both cringed. Leia held up a hand to stop Kalonia. "We can do this another time if you'd prefer?"

Zander nodded stiffly, but didn't look up.

* * *

* * *

 

As soon as his medical history started to be revealed, Hux would be taken away for "treatment". And at that point, he'd be away from Ben, and Skywalker would be free to strip his mind. It wouldn't be too hard to make up some story about why he didn't come back to tell Ben. Hux's scars would tell them he'd had a sufficiently violent lifestyle to make it plausible he'd attacked someone. He even had poorly-healed injuries from during their little adventure.

Then it would all be over. How…pathetic. He'd been a few months from graduation into the First Order elite, and now here he was, clinging to little kid he hardly knew in the desperate hope of prolonging his life just a little longer, nothing left but him. Never to have any great deeds or achievements to his name.

He was upset about that. Just upset at his failure. Not afraid for himself.

They were letting him stay with Ben. He'd take that. He'd take that for as long as it was an option. They were going back to Solo and Organa's house now, and still they let him stay with Ben. It didn't make sense.

He wanted a chance. A chance to remain whole, in body and mind and soul, and to stay with Ben for as long as Ben would have him. Just a chance.

Would that be too much to ask? Could he even trust them enough to ask?

It was all too complicated.


	39. New Old Friends

**Runaways Chapter 39 New Old Friends**

Ben wormed his way into Hux's side, not sure why his friend was so nervous but keen to reassure him as much as necessary. Hux was stiff, tense, quivering a little from nerves. He'd been seriously scared earlier in the Infirmary, and only a little reassured when they left without examining him. Maybe he was upset about his recent injuries? But he hadn't felt ashamed, which would be more understandable.

Mum was detailing the mercy mission that had taken her away from Yavin, when there was a knock on the door. Dad got up to answer it, and Ben heard a familiar voice. "Cap'n Solo? I found this kitty running around. Cute thing. I think I saw him with Ben's new friend?"

Ben perked up at his old friend Poe's voice as Dad replied. "Sure looks like the right cat. C'mon in; I bet Ben'll be glad you came round."

The other boy followed Dad into the living room and made a beeline for Ben. Ben stood and hugged him, until Poe pulled away and slugged him in the shoulder.

Hux tensed where he was still clutching Ben's hand, and a wave of defensive anger bubbled off him. Before he could act, Ben laughed. "Guess I deserved that."

"That you did," Poe said. "Don't you run off on me like that again, buddy."

Dad chuckled. "Poe, you wanna stay for a bit and catch up?" he offered.

Poe grinned sheepishly. "Well…Mam just got back and she and Paps wanted a little alone time…"

Dad guffawed but didn't comment. "Hey, Ginger, this one's yours." He held up Millicent, and gave her to Hux.

Rey squeaked and scrambled up next to Hux. "Kitty!" she squealed with delight. Ben sat down again helped Hux hold the startled cat still for Rey to stroke.

"Hey, I'm Poe, Poe Dameron," Ben's friend said, offering Hux his hand. "What's your name?"

Ben watched closely as Hux went a little pale, giving off resignation. "Hux," he mumbled, letting go of Ben to take Poe's hand for the merest moment before returning to his death grip.

"Cool," Poe grinned. "Where you from?"

"Arkanis," Hux whispered.

Mum leaned forward in her seat. "That's…that's in Imperial space."

Hux stiffened and nodded.

Mum sighed. "This isn't an interrogation, dear."

There was an almost palpable air of misery hanging around Hux; Ben could feel it, and no doubt Uncle Luke and Mum could too. Even Rey had a look in her eyes as though she was picking something up.

"Are you lost?" she asked, leaning into Hux as she scratched Millicent's ears. "You seem scared. I get scared when I get lost."

Hux gave a tight little smile that didn't manage to convey any good humour at all.

Poe threw himself down on the other side of Ben. "Imperial space, huh? You must have flown some way. You a pilot? Ben's not bad, and I think I'm a bit better, but I haven't had much practise. Mam won't let me take her A-Wing out myself until I'm older. What about a TIE fighter? I'd love to fly one of those."

"Uh," Hux stuttered. "Only in simulations. And I was navigating for Ben."

"He's good at working out routes and stuff," Ben affirmed, squeezing Hux's hand comfortingly.

As he said that, he just caught sight of Mum and Uncle Luke slipping out towards the kitchen.

* * *

* * *

 

"Could you _feel_ that? Poor kid's about to burst," Luke said. He busied himself with a pot of Tatooinii tzai tea.

Leia sighed. "Yes, I felt it. There's something very wrong with the poor boy."

"Isn't Arkanis where one of those Academies are?"

"Run by a Commandant Hux last I'd heard," Leia nodded.

Luke paused. "You think they're related? His son, maybe?"

Leia worried her lip. "I've heard terrible things about that place."

"What can we do?" Luke ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "He's convinced we're going to pump him for all the information he can give and put him to death."

Leia held a hand to her chest. "I don't even know what will set him off, but it's going to happen. Should we just take him to the Infirmary to calm down now?"

Luke sighed deeply. "No, that would probably be disastrous. All he's certain of right now is that we won't hurt him in front of Ben."

"So we won't let Ben leave his sight," Leia said decisively. "Hux poses no threat to Ben right now. I can see that."

"And I thought everything was going to be fine when I got Han's message," Luke quipped.

"We're Skywalkers. It's never easy for us," Leia responded, equally wryly.

"But a traumatised ex-Imperial kid? And how old do you think he is?"

"Oh, seventeen? Eighteen? He should still be cadet."

Luke grimaced, opened a cupboard and passed Leia a stack of handle-less teacups. "He's better with us then, even though he doesn't realise it."


	40. Important Matters

**Runaways Chapter 40 Important Matters**

Luke set the teapot on the coffee table after filling eight cups with tzai. Ben had started regaling Poe and Rey with stories about his and Hux's adventures, and was telling them about the cat, Millicent.

"We had to keep taking her away from the fish, see," Ben said. "And Hux said his father had a special friend who'd get accused of lying like a dead fish or something, and she was called Millicent, so that's what we called our kitty."

Han frowned. "Hey, Hux? This ʻfriendʼ of your father's…how long ago was that?"

Hux shrugged awkwardly. "Twelve, thirteen years," he mumbled.

Han was getting noticeably upset. "And did you know what he meant?"

Hux nodded. His cheeks were burning, and Luke could sense the humiliation.

Chewie growled. "Kids should have a proper _childhood_ ," he snarled. He'd always felt rather protective about young ones, and he was getting angry. He stood up abruptly, grabbed his tea, and left, probably to calm down.

Leia slipped around and pulled Rey on her lap to sit next to Hux. She offered him one of the teas, but he shook his head, and Rey took it instead. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to," Leia said, soft and coaxing. "If it's too personal, just say it, we won't ask. But…could you at least tell us if you need any sort of immediate medical attention? No questions. Just let us know."

"I'm fine," Hux snapped, then looked away. He hadn't believed Leia, and he was apprehensive now.

Han nodded towards a pair of packs. "Your stuff's here if you want it."

Hux glanced up briefly and nodded. Han reached over and lightly tossed the larger pack over. Hux caught it and clutched it to himself like some sort of safety blanket. He gave off waves of misery and fear and distress. Luke made eye contact with Leia, who nodded slightly. She'd felt it too.

"Would you like something to drink? To eat?" she offered, staying as calm as possible, but she was starting to get upset herself.

Hux shook his head, still broadcasting distrust. And Ben had turned away, talking with Poe, while Rey had taken the cat. Ben stood up, Poe starting to lead him scampering off somewhere. There was a massive flare of desperate panic as a quiet whine died in Hux's throat.

Leia spoke quickly, but gently. "Ben, honey, please sit back down…we just got you back."

Ben huffed as he sat down, then frowned, giving off concern. Hux was visibly trembling. "Don't be mad at Hux," he blurted out. "Please. He was a good friend. _Is_ a good friend. Look. He protected me. None of it was his fault."

Luke reached out, ʻtappingʼ Ben's mind. Ben had half-decent shields, but lowered them for him. " _Hux was raised Imperial, Ben,_ " Luke explained. " _He's been taught to fear Rebels. He thinks we'll treated him like the Empire treated enemy combatants._ "

Ben blinked, shocked. "No," he whispered, before focusing and sending back. " _He CAN'T think that. He's only a cadet, at one of the Academies._ " Despite his firm declaration, there was a thread of understanding, acceptance, and he started to tense up, letting Luke feel his desperate worry for his friend.

Said friend was getting even more nervous. Luke unhooked his mind from Ben's, and pushed slightly towards Hux instead. " _-Ben decides I'm too much trouble, I might as well slit my own throat,_ " the ginger Imperial was thinking. " _Not a bad option anyway. At least I'd get to control my own death, rather than letting them break all I am first. They've left me my knives-_ "

Luke gasped, leaning forward, staring at Hux. He couldn't really think that? It was…horrifying to think he'd been so twisted into thinking like that. But Imperial ideology had always had some pretty twisted beliefs about honour. "Hux?" he said. The teen looked more towards him, but didn't come close to meeting his eye. "I have to ask you to reveal your concealed weapons. You can keep them, but they have to be in sight."

Hux ducked his head, a new depth of desperation opening within him. But he rolled up his sleeves, revealing a pair of knives strapped to his forearms.

Leia gasped, holding Rey a little closer, and Han stiffened. Luke would have thought the reaction a little unnecessary if it weren't for how unstable Hux appeared.

Leia straightened up. "Hux, we need to talk about a few things. It's the only way we can help you." She glanced at Rey, then leaned around to the other side of the sofa. "Poe? Would you and your parents mind taking Rey for the night? And the rest of today? Just to give everyone a little space." She directed a final thought to Luke. " _I'd send Ben away, too, but that would only make Hux panic._ "

Luke nodded slightly. He'd missed Rey over the past weeks, but this was best. At least until they knew how safe she'd be around Hux.

"Sure thing," Poe nodded. "We can go down to lake until lunch or something. Hear that, Rey? Wanna go get some of your things?"

"Yeah!" Rey chirped. She drained her tea cup and Leia pried Millicent the cat out of her hands before she and Poe scurried off.

Leia turned back to Hux, returning the pet. "Why don't you start by telling us where you got those knives? Are they yours?"

Hux curled in on himself slightly, cradling Millicent against his pack and still clutching Ben's hand. He didn't want to say anything, but eventually he whispered. "They're mine. For…emergencies."

Han sat forward, giving Luke and Leia a quick look asking them to let him have a go. "Have you had many…emergencies?"

Hux swallowed visibly. "Not very many after they knew about the knives. Most everyone carries them, but not everyone uses them."

Han nodded slowly. "My old line of work, everyone had a weapon, or they'd be dead. You use those knives well?"

That made Hux smile. It was grim, and vicious, and would make Chewie complain about lost childhoods again if he was still there. "They were lucky to survive," he said. There was a distinct, unspoken sense that these survivors were few and far between.

Leia frowned. "I don't want to make assumptions, but shouldn't you still be in school?" She seemed to be carefully avoiding the mention of military academies.

Hux tensed again, a sort of grief and resignation provoked by the question. "I'm technically still enrolled," he answered slowly. "I'm just not…present."

Luke cocked his head in thought. "Any particular reason for…not being present?"

"I don't like homework?" he attempted weakly.

Han picked up a teacup and leaned back casually. "How did ya meet Ben?" he asked.

Hux frowned slightly, concentrating on choosing each word carefully. "Father and I…disagree about a few things. He brought up the whole marriage business again and…one thing led to another…"

"Marriage?" Han interrupted. "Aren't you a bit young to settle down, kid?"

Leia considered. "I thought arranged marriages went out of fashion with the fall of the Empire?"

Hux shrugged. "Maybe. But they're growing pretty popular in the Order. It strengthens us." He pursed his lips, no doubt fearing he'd said too much.

"You got a special someone else?" Han asked, smirking slightly. "Or just didn't like the offering?"

Hux flinched. "I don't do relationships."

Luke tried hard not to eyeball the point where Hux and Ben still clasped hands. Leia was more successful, but Han somewhat less so, and Hux's eyes widened in panic.

"It's not like that – at all," he denied. "I just don't want – Ben didn't have –"

"You thought that if you were going to run off somewhere you might as well have someone to watch your back," Luke interrupted the babbling smoothly.

Hux bit his lip to calm himself. "Yes. Well. I saw Ben and I just…took the opportunity. I wanted to get away from…all of it."

Luke smiled. "So you _were_ Imperial, and wanted out." He shrugged. "Good enough for me."


	41. If Only

**Runaways Chapter 41 If Only…**

Hux had been certain his time was up when Ben started to pull away from him. That Organa had called him back wasn't much of a consolation, because Ben had just got jumpier and more nervous, distressed and unhappy. And if Ben decided Hux was too much trouble, Hux may as well slit his own throat.

Not that suicide was such a bad option anyway. At least it would let him control his own death, rather than letting himself be broken first. And he'd been left his knives. Besides, he'd been taught that as an Imperial officer, his duty if captured was to cause as much trouble as possible for his enemy, as long as he could be certain he could resist interrogation, and otherwise commit suicide before he could jeopardize the First Order's interests. When he received his initial assignment, he'd get access to poison capsules to hide in his teeth, like all officers. But Ben wouldn't like either of those options.

The following softcore interrogation didn't make much sense. It was more like they were trying to make small talk out of serious matters. And Skywalker seemed to be trying to convince him they thought that merely leaving the First Order meant he was safe to have around former Rebel commanders and a current New Republic Senator. How stupid and/or trusting did they he was?

And yet…and yet. Part of him _wanted_ it to be true, because if he was safe here, if he could stay safe and happy with Ben, then it would be…more than he could have hoped for from his life. Not having to fight for his life, just staying with someone who cared for him. A chance, to remain whole in body and mind and soul

No, it was just a dream. After all, the Rebel Alliance were the ones who'd forced him into exile with his family and the rest of the upper echelons of the Empire. And now Hux was First Order, trained to fight the Republic Navy and the remains of the Rebels who liked to act almost like vigilantes. He was a threat, and threat were to be dealt with.

But he had Ben on his side, which was at least a little protection. He still had his knives, even if now Skywalker and Organa knew about them. And for whatever reason, his ʻhostsʼ didn't seem to want to just drag him off. They wanted something from him.

"Hux?" Organa said, and Hux blinked, realising he'd zoned out. "Is there anything else you want to tell us?" she continued.

There _had_ to be something specific they were looking for; not that Hux had a clue what it was. "I…I'm happy you got your son back," he said eventually. Because he was – for Ben's sake.

Skywalker leant forward, balancing his elbows on his knees and focusing on Hux, who kept his gaze elsewhere. He still didn't know if eye contact helped in invading minds.

"I know this is hard for you, but you're going to be alright," Skywalker told him. "The Republic and the Alliance don't execute prisoners, and definitely not cadets. We won't hurt you."

Hux blinked. That _had_ to be a trick, an attempt to mind trick him, no matter how much he longed for it to be true. "Well, what the hell are you going to do with me then?"

Skywalker shrugged. "What do you want to do with yourself?"

What? What was _that_ odd bit of phrasing meant to mean? What did _his_ wants matter? He had to do what he _should_ do. For the Academy. For the Order. For his father. Or maybe they thought there was something he should do for them, for Ben. Betray the Order? He couldn't- the Order was his _life_. But other than that? "I…don't know," he admitted in a whisper.

Ben leaned against him. "Then why don't you just stick around until you do?"

Organa and Solo nodded, and Hux looked up at Ben, who seemed to be trying to convey comfort and encouragement in his gaze. But it was such a stupid thing to say. It wasn't as if he had a choice. Not that he _would_ leave, even if he could. "What…would I be held a prisoner?" he asked, glancing back over at Organa.

Organa cleared her throat. "You'd be in our custody, like Ben and Rey, but you wouldn't have the freedom of a- well, there'd be rules. Just for now, and it's not much. What we expect from Ben and Rey, really. Don't run off too far, and we want to be able to find you. You too, Ben, but we'll talk about that later. Hux, you'll have to tell us anything we need to know. And you mustn't attack anyone."

"I know you're frightened," Skywalker added. "But violence is not the way to deal with it."

Hux resisted the urge to scoff. In a very real sense, violence was all he knew. It'd kept him alive so far.

"And we'll try to help with whatever we can," Organa concluded.

"I'm not giving up my knives," he countered quickly. He couldn't stop them if they decided to take them away, but he had to _try_.

Organa frowned. "I'd rather you didn't have them. But since you'll mostly be around us most of the time, I suppose you can hold onto them for now. As long as we can see them, and you _do not_ draw them around Rey or any of the other little children." She sighed fondly. "I can't complain too much. Luke and Ben always have their 'sabers, and Han and Chewie normally have something within reach."

"You got any other weapons?" Solo asked. "Anything else dangerous?"

 _ʻ_ _Teeth, nails, fists, elbows, feet, knees…I should have snagged my rifle as we were leaving the_ Tydirium _._ _ʼ_

Hux clutched the pack containing the entire sum of his possessions to his chest. "Just me," he mumbled.

He was shaking, nearly exhausted from trying to hold himself together. Ben kept hold of his hand, and Millicent dug her claws into his shirt. And a lady's hand laid itself gently on his shoulder.

 _If only_ he could trust them.


	42. Little Cubs, One, Two, Three

**Runaways Chapter 42 Little Cubs, One, Two, Three**

Han was slightly surprised Hux was still upright. The teen was quaking in his seat, eyes tight and tired, curling protectively around his meagre possessions. He kept holding tight to Ben, and Han remembered his son sleeping on the redhead's lap in the _Falcon_ , and even earlier, Hux crouching in front of Ben to protect him from any attacker on the _Tydirium_. Ben had trusted Hux to keep him safe from the unknown, and now Hux was trusting Ben to keep _him_ safe from his apparent enemies. But not enough.

Leia had tried laying a hand on Hux's shoulder, but the teen flinched away. Leia glanced at Han, devastated. He shrugged helplessly.

"Would you like to go lie down?" Leia tried. Hux didn't respond, except to start shaking even harder. His breath caught in his chest, and what little Han could see of his face showed desperation.

"Kid, just take a deep breath," Han coaxed, and Hux tried, breath hitching as he breathed in. "That's it; nice and slow," Han continued. "In…out…in…out." The teen calmed, his lungs working evenly once more.

"It's okay; just take things at your own pace," Luke murmured.

"We're not going to hurt you," Leia said firmly. "Why doesn't Ben show you around?"

Ben stood, carefully urging Hux up. "Come on," he half-pleaded.

Hux got up, swinging his pack onto his shoulder and clutching Ben's hand. His little cat jumped back down onto the sofa and curled up where Ben had been siting. Ben smiled encouragingly at him.

"Perhaps you two can share Ben's old room?" Han suggested. His wife and her twin shot him identical glances. "What? We weren't going to just pack Ben off back to the Temple, and they were sharing a bunk on the shuttle…"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Those bunks are barely big enough to fit one person on them," he mumbled under his breath.

Han merely shrugged. They'd all fought in the Rebellion together; they all knew there were times when a fellow warm body was more important than a comfortable sleeping position. After Endor, Luke had even crawled into bed with Han and Leia a few times when the enormity of what he'd done on the second Death Star overwhelmed him – which had led to a few uncomfortable moments for reasons other than trying to fit three on a one-man bunk.

The two children left, and Leia moved to sit next to Han. "He's underweight," she said. And so sickly pale. Looks like he's never had a good night's sleep in his life."

Han wrapped his arm around her. "That's over now," he said firmly.

Luke nodded. "We'll make him healthy. Physically, at least. Mentally might be a bit more difficult."

"Little ones like him need protecting," Chewie rumbled from the doorway. "I can still smell his fear."

"That's Imperials for ya," Han sighed.

"So what are we going to do now?" Leia asked, sitting up a little straighter and taking a more authoritative tone of voice. "Clearly we made a mistake with Ben that we can't afford to repeat. And what do we do with Hux?"

Han smirked. "Is that rhetorical, or do you really not know?" he teased.

Leia's elbow impacted with his side. "Focus."

"Let Ben settle back in," Luke counselled. "As for Hux…I don't think we'll be waiting long for it to come to a head. It'll be easier after that."

Han sighed. "Look, I can't go into his head like you two, but I can tell he's scared out of his mind. Are you saying there's more to come?"

Luke scrubbed at his face. "He thinks we're lulling him into a false sense of security to disentangle Ben's affections from him, then we're going to interrogate him, using the Force as necessary, and execute him. He thinks that he'd prefer us to just cut to the chase quite a bit. He hasn't considered the implications for his First Order yet, or even thought all that much about informing on them. When he's calmed from his immediate panic and had time to think, he'll probably get _really_ upset."

"He _has_ just given up his entire way of life," Leia commented. "We _know_ we're offering him something better, but we can't expect him to embrace it straight away."

"What about Rey?" Chewie asked. "Should we bring her home, or do you want to talk to Kes Dameron about a more permanent arrangement? Or send her to the Temple crèche now?"

"My baby girl…and sharp knives." Leia shuddered. "Luke, maybe you could keep her with you all the time? Take her to the Temple, bring her home for dinner, just to keep her safe. I don't think she'd mind spending more time with you."

"You don't trust Hux not to hurt her," Luke said, not even trying to phrase it as a question.

Leia held her hands up, slightly defensive. "I don't trust that if he cracks he'll still be able to tell the difference between a little girl and a dangerous enemy."

Luke hummed, then winced. Millicent the cat had started climbing his leg. He scooped her up. "He seems to be fine with this little lady."

"His pet isn't our daughter," Leia retorted. "Anyway, didn't you say cats are Force-sensitive?"

"I said that a research paper I found suggested that they had minor precognition, and some had a tendency to bond with a sentient ʻownerʼ," Luke corrected.

"So kitty can get herself out of trouble," Leia dismissed. "It's the kids I'm worried about."

"All of them, or just your cubs?" Chewie moaned.

"I won't risk Rey unnecessarily for Hux," Leia said curtly.

Luke held up a hand to stop the argument from getting any more heated. "Hux'd probably get even twitchier if he didn't think we were taking _any_ precautions," he interrupted. "Sure, I'd love to have Rey shadowing me for a bit. As for Hux, just give him space. Don't push him. He'll be suspicious, but less likely to clam up and have a panic attack."

"Poor little cubs," Chewie howled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please join me on Tumblr at http://katharkness.tumblr.com/ for extras, including an opportunity to contribute to the cast of minor characters.


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